


if you need to, keep time on me.

by j_whirl44



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (its vampire!Cel and vampirehunter!zolf), (minor character death in chap 7), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, In Chapter 7, MCD in chap 9, Non-Consensual Drug Use, same with the GDOV warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26162803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_whirl44/pseuds/j_whirl44
Summary: Tonight’s target is Celiquillithon Sidebottom. According to sources they were born in the late 1600s and changed probably around the turn of the century, but that was it. Zolf really had no other information on them. They’ve kept one of the lowest profiles of anyone he’s hunted before. He wouldn’t even have known about them if it wasn’t for a tip left for him outside his door one morning. It was filled with a picture, name, and location along with more money than Zolf’s ever seen. So he of course took the job.
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Zolf Smith, Feryn Smith & Zolf Smith, Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Comments: 114
Kudos: 37





	1. New Acquaintances

** LONDON - 1860 **

Zolf is drenched as he stands and waits at the tree line until his target emerges from the inn they walked into almost thirty minutes ago. His mechanical legs ache thanks to the storm and It’s raining so hard he can barely see ten feet in front of him, but he can’t back out because tonight’s the night. It’s the one he spends weeks preparing for and making sure he has everything just right. The one where he rids the world of another monster. A foul creature that preys on others for its own gain. It’s taken him a while but he doesn’t really feel bad about it anymore. In a job like this you have to detach yourself. The mission comes first. Everything else after.

Tonight’s target is Celiquillithon Sidebottom. According to sources they were born in the late 1600s and changed probably around the turn of the century, but that was it. Zolf really had no other information on them. They’ve kept one of the lowest profiles of anyone he’s hunted before. He wouldn’t even have known about them if it wasn’t for an envelope left for him outside his door one morning. It was filled with a picture, name, and location along with more money than Zolf’s ever seen. So he of course took the job.

It’s not the way he usually works, taking anonymous tips, but something called him to this one. It didn’t take long for him to find them and then it was business as usual. He tracked them, watched their every move. See who they interact with and how they interact with them. Anything to gain an advantage over them when it came to the final blow.

He wipes his face for what feels like the one hundredth time and he squints his eyes to focus on the entrance of the inn. He’s not sure what they’re doing in there but he’s all but giving up and about to reposition to get a better look when the door swings open and out they walk but now they’re not alone.

With them is a family. By the looks of it it’s an older woman with two small children attached to her side. They move slow and his target is holding out a big umbrella to them to keep them covered. He pulls his hood over his head to try and stay at least a little bit incognito before he slowly follows after them. His arms are by his side but he still grips his crossbow at the ready in his right hand. He doesn’t like to do the kill with witnesses around. Learned the hard way it gets too messy, so it would be a last resort, but he is ready.

The journey is short and it leads them all down a short alleyway. He recognizes it now as a back door to the pharmacy they own. He doesn't know why they go in the backway but he stays in the shadows as best he can and crouches down. When he sees them all make their way inside he slowly approaches the outside of the door.

The rain is pounding down and it’s almost too hard to make out what they’re saying so he closes his eyes and focuses as hard as he can to try and gleam something.

“This should help…three times a....i have a bed here...late afternoon tomorrow but…” is all he’s able to make out. It goes fully quiet now and he leans in just a little further to try and get anything more but it’s no use.

He doesn’t even hear the footsteps approach the door and swing it open before it’s too late. He shoots up and tries to step back but he stumbles and his legs creek and it blows his cover. His hood is still over his head and in this moment he hopes that's enough as he comes face to face with his target.

They jump back slightly and grab onto something strapped to their hip but they don’t draw it. His finger itches by the trigger of his crossbow that's still at his side. It’s a weird standoff.

He remembers now he has a job to do. He should’ve already done it; they were right there in range, but he just doesn’t. He can’t lift his arm. He’s all choked up and the look on Celiquillithon’s face is one of confusion and a little bit of fear. They take a step back but are standing tall. There’s nothing else Zolf can think to do but run, so that’s what he does. He spends the first few steps walking backwards then he turns on a dime and makes his way out of the alley and down the eerily empty streets of London. He pops into the first pub he finds and grabs a table in the back. He drinks to clear his head. There’s an ache in his bones from where the rain’s seeped through. He focuses on his breathing.

`~`

Having to endure fancy parties is a part of the job he’s always hated. He’s grown a reputation in the higher circles as a top hunter. Everyone knows his name and these parties work more as networking events than anything. People crowd him and ask him stories of his best kills and he usually puts enough drink in him to indulge them. Granted, the stories he tells are never true. He makes up flashy tales and exaggerated schemes to keep them entertained in hope that maybe they’d leave him alone sooner. They were easier to handle when his brother was still around as he did most of the talking, but that’s been a long time ago now.

Tonight, though, he’s not in the mood so he keeps himself hidden. He doesn’t even know why he really came because he still had a job to do. He failed last night. Froze up at the time to strike and he’s still trying to understand why. It’s left a bad taste in his mouth all day as he racks his brain for any excuse or explanation. He finds none in the moment. He downs the glass of whiskey he was holding and immediately grabs another from a passing waiter.

He stands in the back of the main room as he tries to hide away from anyone who might dare talk to him right now. It’s a plan that seems to be working but in a moment he's dragged somewhere as he feels a hand grab his forearm. He's disoriented and it’s a blur until he realizes he's now in the middle of the dance floor and the hand that was on his forearm is now on his shoulder. He looks up and lets out a quiet gasp. 

It's them. Celiquillithon. Right here in front of him.

They look different as they’re now in a long blue collared dress with buttons up the front. The sleeves are puffed out cuffed at the wrist. He’s never seen them in a dress before. He locks eyes with them and there's a shine in them that he's seen before many times. The sparkling glimmer of being undead. They smile, "Sorry to disturb you this evening, Mister Smith, but you looked like you could use a dance," they say.

The two of them begin to dance. Zolf’s heeled shoes help the height difference a little bit, but it’s still a bit awkward at first. That and they both try to lead. Eventually after another a few minutes of squabbling and stepping on toes they fall into an almost perfect rhythm. Zolf doesn’t want to dwell on that bit too much.

“How do you know my name?” he asks.

They laugh and give a noncommittal shrug that’s followed by a lopsided smirk, “You have quite the reputation, it wasn’t hard. I just asked who that handsome brooding man was in the corner,” they say.

Zolf stays silent. He feels too exposed right now. A game of cat and mouse he’s never usually on this side of. He looks around and watches as the partygoers don’t seem to be giving either of them a second thought as they continue to dance. 

“Don’t worry I don’t want to fight. I just want to talk,” they say. Their eyes are locked onto Zolf like a predator on prey, but he’s not some lame animal waiting to be killed. He focuses in again and stares at them just as sharply.

“Talk about what, Celiquillithon,” he says. His voice is stern and dark compared to their cheery and upbeat one.

They smile and give him a wink, “Please, my friends call me Cel. It’s much easier. Less pretentious,” they offer.

Zolf’s face sulks even further, “So we’re friends then?” 

“We could be,” Cel says.

“What if i don’t want to be,” he replies.

Cel dips him and it catches him off guard but he’s able to recover. His eyes widen in surprise before he controls his face back to neutral.

“Well I guess you don’t have to be if you don’t want to, but I do hope the other option isn’t my death, Mister Smith,” they say.

Zolf doesn’t know what to do. He can try and play it off as a misunderstanding but he has a feeling it’s not going to work here. Cel’s too quick; too sharp. They’re looking at him expectantly with one eyebrow slightly cocked.

He tries it anyway, “I don’t know what you mean,” he says.

Cel gives a loud laugh this time that travels the space of the room and whips their head back so far Zolf has to try to keep them both standing. It’s dramatic and a few eyes around the room look at them briefly before continuing their conversations. Zolf feels his cheeks go a bit red. 

“You do hunt vampires don’t you Mister Smith, and given the fact that you’ve been following me around for weeks,” they say. Zolf’s stomach drops, “I’d say I was the lucky target of your services.”

Zolf is utterly speechless. It’s been a while since he’s been caught in a trap like this, but he tries to stay calm, he can make his way out of it.

Cel stops them from dancing now and they stand there for a moment. They’re looking down at him. They lean down to come to his ear, “Perhaps we should go somewhere and talk.”

They don’t wait for Zolf to respond before they head away and off the dance floor. He can’t help but follow along and now he finds himself out on a terrace overlooking the courtyard of the house. It’s a cool night and he sees Cel leaning on the brick wall. They take something out from behind their ear. It looks like a small golden ring with something sticking out of it. They place it on their finger and then lift up their skirt a bit to their knees. Zolf looks away quickly. He hears Cel snicker, “What a gentleman,” they say. They pull out a cigarette and a small match box and light it. It’s placed on the attachment of the ring and they take a long drag.

They offer it to him but he doesn’t accept. They just give a shrug and return it to their lips.

“So,” they begin, “what’s your story Zolf Smith.”

“How did you know I was following you,” he says, avoiding the question completely.

Cel looks out onto the courtyard and lets out a puff of smoke. The smell of nicotine mixed with the leftover rain fills his nostrils and it relaxes Zolf in a way. “No offense but i’ve been around a long time and have been followed by a lot of people, Mister Smith, you did good for the most part, but I know most tricks in the book by now,” they explain.

He swallows a laugh down and tries to look at casual as possible. He can’t deny the charm Cel has to them, but that seems to be a personality trait of most of their kind. Devilish beings. He thinks it must come with the territory.

Cel’s has another smirk on their face as they tap some of the loose ashes off the cigarette. Zolf watches them fall to the ground.

“Now Mister Smith you seem like a good man, well as good as any man in your line of work could be,” they say.

“Could say the same about you…” he mumbles under his breath in response.

“You seem like the type to dot your i’s and cross your t’s am I right?” they continue on, not acknowledging his remark. They take another long drag. At this point Zolf thinks he could use one too. He’s feeling twitchy but he keeps his hands at his sides.

“Are you going somewhere with this, then?” he spits out. He’s over pleasantries at the moment.

Cel smiles and reaches out with their cigarette holder one more time. Zolf again declines. “Thought I should tell you I’m leaving town for a bit after tonight. First thing tomorrow. You might’ve already known that but,” they say.

He didn’t. He continues to listen.

“I’m just asking that you don’t follow me. That you let me live,” they propose.

He scoffs immediately, “Excuse me?”

Cel stomps out their cigarette and places the holder back behind their ear. They stand up straight now and place their arms at their sides with their hands open facing. It’s a stance as if to say ‘come and get me.’ Zolf looks them up and down and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I have asked nicely,” they say. There's something in their eyes that seems vaguely threatening and he doesn’t like it. It just makes him grow angrier.

“Why would I do that you...I....” he doesn’t really know how to answer that. The truth being that they shouldn't even be having this conversation, and the fact that they are already gives Cel an advantage to getting what they want. He’s been got.

Cel knows it too by the way they’re looking down at him. It’s not in any malicious way but it’s smug and makes his skin itch in irritation.

He sighs and drops his arms, “You know I can’t do that,” he says.

“Why not?” they counter.

“Because you’re...you just-I can’t-” he attempts to form an answer but it’s not working.

Cel gives a light chuckle as they walk closer to Zolf, “You make a great point there,” they say.

He’s being treated like a child and it’s beyond frustrating so he just shuts his mouth before he adds anymore fuel to this fire.

Cel reaches out their hand and cups his cheek. Their palms are icy cold and it’s something he should have expected but it still makes him jump. Cel gives it a slight tape.

“It was lovely to meet you, Mister Smith. May we never have to do this again,” they whisper as they head back into the house. He stands there confused and angry as he chews the inside of his cheek and tries to dissect just exactly what happened.

The next day he passes by their pharmacy and like they said, they are gone.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away.

He doesn’t follow. His skin itches for weeks.


	2. Following

**SCOTLAND - 1860**

Zolf doesn’t know what it is about Scotland that leads to an influx of vampires. It could be the cold, the rain, the clouds that still hang overhead on “a good day,” maybe it’s even the food? Regardless he finds himself over here at least four or five times a year and now it’s where he finds himself now. People in this already small village are disappearing. The local police called him in as an extra pair of eyes. So he’s led here: hanging outside the outskirts of a sheep farm, waiting and watching like always. The target is some nondescript sheep herder that Zolf asked around about. He seems harmless and the people like him. Those are Zolf’s first clues. 

He waits until he has the cover of night to get closer to the main house. The lights are on and he can see his target walking about the halls. So far nothing out of the ordinary really, but the night is young. He waits and sees the man exit through the back door, and that’s where things get interesting.  
  
Zolf watches him leave his house, carrying something covered by a cloth in his hands. He’s walking towards a hidden cellar door a few yards away. Zolf sighs, sometimes his life feels like one big cliche. The target quickly descends down the cellar and before Zolf can react the door is shut behind him. He mutters a curse, he has to wait even longer now. He picks at his fingernails and lets out an annoyed sigh as he leans against a tree for him to emerge again.

Then he hears it, a scream coming from down below. He jumps up and doesn’t hesitate, he heads towards the cellar. He takes the handle of his crossbow and breaks through the wooden doors and sprints down as best he can. It’s dark save a few candles lit at the foot of the stairs. He takes a second to calm himself and focus his attention towards his surroundings before he looks around.

It’s a surprisingly big cellar with shackles hanging from various places on the ceiling. Some are rusted and some look brand new. There’s a small cell in the corner and everything smells just slightly off and Zolf tries to breath through his mouth to dampen it. He continues to slowly make his way down the dugout corridors and wonders how long this beast had to be living here to make a maze such as this. He hears another scream but this time it sounds like it’s from his target.

He shouts something in a language Zolf doesn’t recognize and there’s now sounds of a struggle and another scream that matched the one he heard earlier. He picks up his pace and holds his crossbow at the ready out in front of him. He smells the wet earth that makes up the walls around him.

He sees a dim light towards the end of the hallway and to the right. He slows up and peaks into the room.

There stands his target, and someone else tied up in one of the shackle type things. They appear to be a woman with short black hair and a burn scar up the side of her neck. Her body looks limp but Zolf can see the look in her face that says she’s not down for the count yet. That’s shown when she spits at the face of her assailant. The target stumbles back and wipes furiously at where the projectile landed. Zolf notices he places a hand behind his back and draws a dagger. That’s when he moves in.

Within a second, Zolf shoots the target straight through the back of the head. He gasps and stumbles back. He drops the dagger and it makes a soft thud on the ground. The target tries to turn but he just trips over his own legs, causing him to fall onto the ground as well with a thud. Zolf walks up as he reloads his bow. He aims at the target's heart this time, he shoots him point blank. He doesn’t get back up. Zolf retrieves the bolts and wipes them off and puts them back in the quiver.

He’s about to go about his regular work of the routine he’s gone through over again and again for years now, until the woman from earlier clears her throat which gets his attention.

Zolf freezes and feels himself blush as he slings his weapon over his back and looks around for some sort of key. No luck, because of course there isn’t.

He lets out a groan and thinks a bit.

“You know how to pick a lock,” the woman says.

Zolf almost wasn’t expecting her to ever speak, so he jumps a bit at her question until he just nods, “yeah...yeah I can,” he says.

“Great, here,” she says. She kicks out her left foot and shakes it. Zolf looks at her confused. The woman huffs, “yeah, uh, i keep a kit on me. It’s strapped to my ankle. Probably...probably should have told you that before…” she mumbles off. Zolf takes a step closer and he now realizes just how young this woman is. He can see it in her face, even if it does look tired and worn.

He leans down and gently lifts up her pant leg. Sure enough, hidden just above her ankle is a small lock pick. He grabs it and gets back up. He gets to work.

It’s difficult to get a grip at first because of his height but he’s eventually able to wiggle the pick through and do what he needs to. He gets her right hand free. She shakes out her wrist a bit and then reaches out her hand. “I can get the other,” she says. Zolf just nods and hands it to her and in what he thinks might be record timing her left hand is free. He looks at her with an impressed face, his eyebrows raised as high as they could be.

His admiration doesn’t last long as within the time it takes for him to register what’s happening there’s a knife to his throat.

“Right, who the hell are you,” she says.

Zolf lifts his hands in an attempt for peace and swallows hard, “Look we don’t have to do this,” he offers.

“How did you know about this place?” the woman asks again. She steps a little closer, adding the slightest pressure onto Zolf’s neck.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he says.

“You just...killed him,” she says. She lets out a frustrated groan, “I needed to talk to him I-I had this under control,” she mumbles more to herself.

Zolf tries not to show any outward reaction to that since he is the one that has a knife to him throat so he just coughs lightly, “You were...tied up. I-I was thinking I was saving you,” he says.

“I had it under control,” she protests. Now he does give her a look. She responds with a scoff and she chews the inside of her cheek. After a moment she takes a step back and removes the knife from his throat.

She places it back in its holster, “Right. Thanks I guess,” she says. She looks around at the floor. She spots the dagger the target dropped and picks it up. She inspects it and then places it on her person.

Zolf just looks at her, “What?” she says, “It’s a good dagger. Not like he needs it anymore,” she says pointing a finger at the body. He can’t really disagree there so he just shrugs as if to say  _ ‘fair enough.’ _

The air is awkward now as Zolf knows he needs to go about his work now, but he feels like he can’t with her here. He’s about to say a much before she speaks up herself, “So what’s the plan now then. How are we gonna...deal with it,” she says.

“It?” Zolf says.

“You know this...vampire or whatever.”

He freezes, “You knew?”

She shrugs, “Not at first. Was trailing something else but it got pretty obvious quickly,” she explains.

He lets out a sigh and then just shrugs as he takes out a big carving knife. He kneels down, lines it up just below the body’s throat. He looks up at the woman, “You might wanna look away,” he says.

“I’ve seen worse,” she counters.

He wants to ask but doesn’t. He just sighs and turns his focus back to his hands. He gets to work. The knife slices through easy and the head comes clean off, it’s taken a while for him to find the best tools. A lot of trial and error when it came to this part but there’s finally a rhythm. It starts with the head. Then he pulls out a stake that glows an orange hue. He places it at the body’s heart and pushes down. It starts to sizzle like a brand on a horse and the skin bubbles. He closes his eyes and mumbles a few words and he then lifts the stake back up. He carves an x into the skin there.

He looks up and the woman is standing rigid now, her pale face gets paler and he can tell she’s holding in vomit. He sighs, “I told you.”

She goes to respond but all that comes out are her gags as she turns away to puke. He can’t totally blame her, he did that his first kill too. He cleans up as best he can and finds something to wrap the head in.

“And what are you doing with that then,” she says.

“Have to get it as far from the body as possible. Then burn it,” he explains. He starts to make his way out of tunnels, he hears her follow him.

Zolf hasn’t had a partner of any kind in a while, not since his brother. It feels weird to have someone tailing him now, even if it’s only for a little bit.

“So who was this guy, how did you end up here,” Zolf asks.

“Edmund something or another,” the woman mumbles, “I heard he...he was in bad business. Liked to...buy people. I was looking for someone. Led me to an auction. Got caught up in it, I-uh,”

Zolf looks behind him to see the woman’s now shaking a bit as she tries to explain. He stops and turns, holds a free hand up, “Hey. You don’t have to, uh, explain that whole part. I...I’m sorry,” he says.

“There were others with me when I got here,” she mumbles.

Zolf has a brief flash of anger well up inside him momentarily and he quickly swallows it. If that was the case he wishes he got here sooner, but what’s done is done. At least he saved one person.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

She pauses, “who’s asking?”

“Well, me,” he says, “Uh-Zolf. I’m Zolf,” he says.

She chews on her cheek again for a moment before she nods, “Uh..Sasha. Name’s Sasha."

He’s struck once again about how young she seems. How she looks tough and tries to carry herself that way but there’s a little tremble in her voice when she speaks that shows her vulnerability.

Zolf walks a few more feet then stops. He places the head down on the ground. He looks around and begins to make a fire pit.

“Isn’t this a little too close,” she asks.

He gives a grunt, “Gotta do it fast, otherwise the body could reanimate. Missed some time with…” he stops himself. It’s not Sasha’s fault she was brought into this, he reminds himself of that.

He quickly starts a fire and fans the flames so they get higher faster. Once satisfied he takes the head from the cloth and grabs it by the hair. It’s an ugly face, shriveled now to reveal its true age, wrinkled and grey.

He looks up at Sasha, “You might want to cover your ears,” he says.

She’s hesitant but after a moment she gives a nod and brings her hands up and plugs her ears. He nods and places the head on the fire.

Suddenly, the mouth opens up and lets out a curdling scream that echoes through the trees. Zolf flinches and closes his eyes to try and not focus on it. Sasha lets out a small yelp of her own as she plugs her ears further. It’s a heinous sound and it might only last for a minute or two but it’s agonizing.

After it finally stops, the smell of burning rotting flesh fills the air and it’s nauseating. Sasha looks like she’s about to vomit again.

Zolf has to swallow down some of his own.

The head turns to literal dust. He closes his mouth so as to not breathe any of it in. Sasha removes her hands from her ears and stares down at the pile. Zolf takes out a waterskin that glows blue momentarily. He opens it and puts out the flames. Job finished. As it always should be.

“Does that always happen,” Sasha asks. She’s shaking still but she looks better than she did just a few minutes ago.

He shrugs, “Yeah. You...well you’re supposed to get used to it. Eventually,” he explains.

“Who are you,” Sasha says, “like. Where did you come from. Ho-how do you know this all,” she continues.

He sighs, “Look I-I can’t really explain it. It’s complicated. Now I think we should just get you home. I don’t know where to start but maybe there’s-”

“Don’t really have a home,” Sasha says.

He pauses, and then looks at the ground,  _ of course she doesn’t _ , he thinks.

“You don’t,” he says flatly.

She just shrugs like it’s old news, “never really did. Had..had some people but. They’re gone now too,” she says.

“Right…” he says. He begins to play with his hands. He doesn’t know what else to say.

For so long, Zolf’s lived with his own set of self-assuring rules and morals and codes and it’s not the best way to live sometimes but it’s what he’s made his. He stares at Sasha and sees a little bit of his brother in her. That thought alone makes the breath catch in his throat. He takes a moment, really weighs what he’s thinking in his head. He lets out a sigh and braces himself, “You could...come with me if you wanted. At least for a little bit. To help get you on your feet and all that. I don’t-I’m not much of a persona to be around but...I can help you, Sasha,” he says sincerely.

She looks at him with a guarded look and she takes her hands and shakes them out a bit as she thinks.

“You could teach me how to do what you do, yeah?” she asks.

“I, uh, don’t know if that’s something you’d want, frankly,” he says.

“Told you i’ve seen worse,” she snaps back, “I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were,” he says back, “I just, this isn’t exactly a conventional job or living.”

Sasha doesn’t seem phased, “wasn’t doing much of that before this, to be honest.”

Zolf actually laughs at that, “no i guess not.”

Sasha sticks out her hand and gives Zolf a pointed look. He takes a moment and considers, then he grabs her hand and they shake on it.

That was that.

They spend the next six months traveling and training together. Zolf teaches her the basics. How to spot one. How to track it. The ins and out on weapons that can do more than a dagger, though she hasn’t really listened to that particular lesson.

They’re back in London after a close call in Wales. Sasha did the kill this time and there’s still a weird air between them about it that neither wants to recognize. He’s not sure how to go about bringing it up so he just doesn’t. He hopes maybe being back home will help. They get to his apartment and he immediately stops outside the door. It’s clear it’s been broken into. Sasha takes out a dagger and stands at the ready. He holds a pick concealed in his hand and opens the door and they both take a small step inside.

It’s dark so he turns on the light. Nothing looks out of place, everything is still where they left it. He wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong is there wasn’t a small pool of blood on the floor near his kitchen table.

He looks to Sasha who gives him a nod as they walk slowly through the rooms together. Everything’s clear. They head towards the bathroom. He can hear water running. There’s blood on the door knob.  
  
He opens the door and he almost loses it when he sees them standing there. Slouched over the sink and the white lace shirt they’re wearing covered in blood.

“Cel?” Zolf says.

Cel jumps and looks up. Their eyes are out of focus but they give a small smile when they see him as well as a limp wave.

“Oh good you’re home,” they say just before they pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp hereeeeee's chapter 2! As if i wasn't going to also incorporate zolf & sasha into this......
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> See you later!


	3. New Horizons

**LONDON 1861**

Sasha and Zolf stand there and share a look. Zolf looks down at the floor where Cel lay and takes a moment to assess their damage. It’s obvious there’s a wound somewhere on their stomach. As well as some scratches and scrapes on their neck. He sighs and walks over.

“Grab a side and help me with them, yeah,” he says.

“Who..who is this,” Sasha says.

Zolf sighs, “It’s a long story just, please, I need to move them,” he replies. Sasha still doesn’t seem convinced but she walks over and helps. They lift them up and both can feel how cold they are and Sasha freezes. Zolf gives her a look of both warning and pity as they carry Cel to his room and lay them on the bed.

He inspects the wounds on their neck. They’re deep, but already healing. He grabs a cloth from nearby and wipes away at the excess blood. He hesitates a moment before he slowly lifts up their shirt. The wounds there are just as deep. Stab wounds from the look of it. Gaping holes pepper their side with some splinters sticking out. He sighs and reaches down, picking out what he can without tweezers. Sasha’s just been watching him, her stance is rigid and he knows what’s coming.

“Zolf. Who  _ is  _ this,” she says. There’s a tone in her voice that lets him know she’s not going to let this go until she’s answered.

He sighs, “This is Cel. Uh, Celiquillithon, we met a while back. Out in the field,” he explains.

“Zolf,” Sasha says, “I felt their body. I-I can  _ see _ their wounds. This…”

“Sasha. I know, alright, just. I know,” he says. Cel stirs a little and Zolf jumps back. He can see the stab wounds move, he takes their shirt and gently pulls it back down.

Sasha’s gritting her teeth and looking at Zolf with a harsh stare. Her hands are at her sides and she’s flexing them in and out of fists.

He sighs, “I-look Sasha. I know this looks bad. It’s complicated alright? Just. We need to wait for them to wake up before we can do anything,” he says.

Sasha gives a stiff nod, “Right. Right, yeah,” she says as she takes a step back, “I’m gonna go...get-get some air I guess.” She turns and walks out the door without another word. Zolf sighs and looks back down at Cel.

Their wounds are closing but slowly. It makes sense with how deep they are, and from the stab wounds he can tell they were done by proper equipment. He wonders how they’re even still alive, but he doesn’t question it.

He leaves the room and closes the door behind him. Sasha’s nowhere to be found and he knows it’s useless to go looking so he makes his way to the couch and sits and waits.

It takes a day for Cel to wake up. Zolf falls asleep on the couch and is jumped awake when he hears them walk out of his room.

“Ah,” they say when they see him, “Mister Smith! Good to see you again I-” they pause as if remembering something, “Oh. Right. I’m, uh, sorry for the intrusion.” They look down at their ripped up and bloody shirt and feel their stomach. The wounds are mostly gone but he sees them flinch when they press the new skin. They move a hand to their neck and it’s much of the same. “How long was I out?” they ask.

“About a full day,” he says.

They seemed surprised to hear that and Zolf can see a brief flash of confusion in their face before they come back, “That’s certainly something,” they say.

“You want to explain what you’re doing here then?” a voice calls out from the corner. Cel and Zolf both jump as they turn to look at Sasha. Cel smiles and walks up to her.

“Oh! Again with the rudeness, terribly sorry. I’m Cel, and who are you? I wasn’t aware Mister Smith had a, oh what would you say, an apprentice?” they say.

Sasha bristles at that and ignores Cel’s outstretched hand. She gives an inaudible grumble and just turns back towards her room. The door closes behind her.

Zolf gives a low sigh and Cel turns to him with a raised eyebrow. He shakes his head and tries to not worry about Sasha.

Cel stretches and gives a sharp noise of pain that they try to hide. He now sees that there’s purple bags under their eyes that give them a more sunken look.

“Are you...okay, Cel,” he asks.

They look at him with confusion and then look over themselves again, they shrug, “Oh I’m fine I guess all things considered,” they answer. Zolf can see they’re thinking hard about something. They tap their left foot lightly on the floor and look down, they hold a hand to their chin.

Zolf picks at his fingers as he waits for them to speak. They finally stop and look towards him again.

“Who hired you to kill me, Zolf?” they say. Their voice is shaky and they still sound a little confused. He can hear the faint click of Sasha’s door opening and she creeps out. She still keeps her distance.

He freezes and gives a shrug after a moment, “Don’t know. Just. Found your name in an envelope. Along with some money-”

“How much,” Cel interjects. They perk up a bit.

He coughs awkwardly, “About...about fifteen thousand,” he mutters.

Sasha steps forward at that, “What?” she says.

“That’s all…” Cel trails off. They shake their head, “that’s not important right now i suppose. Still…” they look at the floor and seem genuinely offended at the number.

“Cel?” Zolf asks.

“Oh! Right-right, uh, you see, Mis-mister Smith I, uh, well, had a run in with some old partners and they uh. Didn’t didn’t seem too keen to see me and I was just wondering if...well they uh…I don’t…” they look out the window behind Zolf. They take a deep breath in and out. It’s mostly for show but he takes note of the relaxed stance they take afterwards.

They stare hard at Zolf now, “They know I’m alive,” is all they say.

Zolf thinks for a moment and lets out a tired sigh. He never actually confirmed or denied his kill. Like what he did with Cel that morning; he just let it go. He hid out in one of his safehouses for a few days but no one came knocking. No one seemed to be looking for him to make sure the job was dealt with. He thinks it probably helped that Cel left town too. So after a while he returned to business as normal. Things seemed to be fine.

Until right now of course.

He realizes Cel’s waiting for an answer and he just puts his face in his hands and rubs his eyes. “Well what are we supposed to do about this, then?” he says.

“We could just kill you now,” Sasha says from the corner. She steps closer to Cel now. They don’t really respond to that. They just look Sasha up and down and then shrug. Zolf gives Sasha a pointed look that she ignores. She’s toying with a dagger in her hands.

“You know you could. You really, really could,” they say, “but I’d rather you didn’t? I quite...quite like living. For now anyway.” they run a hand through their hair and rest it on the back of their neck. “Look I-I’m here on more of a courtisty. If the ones who attacked me were hired or working with the ones who hired you then you,” they look at Zolf, now with a sort of guilty look in their eye, “then I’ve put you in danger too.”

Zolf takes another moment to try and think through his thoughts. This was certainly messy and inconvenient. He finds himself trying to search his brain back all those months ago and decipher why he wasn’t even able to kill Cel in the first place, but like all that time ago there’s not a specific thing he can place.

“Who do you think’s doing this,” he says. Sasha gives him a look. He ignores it for now.

Cel appears shocked for a moment before they shake their head and clear their throat, “Right well that’s a complicated question,” they say as they laugh nervously, “Uh, there’s many people that could’ve I mean I’ve not always made the nicest friends in my lifetime and a lot of scorned lovers and I don’t know just gen-”

“Cel,” Zolf interrupts. They snap out of their tangent. He sighs, “who on that list would have the money like that to pay for the job,” he rephrases.

They nod, “oh that’s only one person. A-A professor I worked with in Japan way back in...oh the twenties maybe? Forties? Yoshida Shoin. He’s quite intelligent for his age I mean that thoughtfully. He just...we had a bit of a falling out a few years back. He’s been on my tail ever since. Wants me...wants me dead, as you can guess,” they explain.

“Is he still in Japan?” Zolf asks.

“Yes. Yes I was there recently. Had some other business to take care of. He. I tried to be careful but as I mentioned. He’s very persistent,” they say.

“So you came here and led them straight to us,” Sasha snaps. Zolf can see that with every passing moment she’s getting more annoyed. He wants to reach out to calm her down, but he knows it’s no use right now.

Cel smiles sadly, “Unfortunately some of his men already found you It’s how-” they stop themselves, “I took care of it. Sent them off your scent, so to speak.”

A flicker of realization hits Zolf and he grits his jaw, “Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right about that,” he says.

“So all I’m hearing is that we have reason to kill you. So why don’t we do it, Zolf,” Sasha says.

“Sasha. Not now,” he says, “You know that’s not how we do things-”

“Oh isn’t it?” she interrupts. They stare at each other a moment and Cel shifts uncomfortably. There’s a short passing look of apology on Sasha’s face as she breaks eye contact with Zolf and heads towards the door. She leaves again without a word.

Cel speaks up, “Oh she really shouldn’t be out on her own now,” they say.

Zolf bites his lip, “She’ll be fine. She...she’s good at keeping to the shadows. She can handle herself,” he says.

“Right. Right okay,” they say.

Neither of them talk for a moment as Zolf chews over the situation in front of him. He’s been made, in a sense. This is certainly not the first time there’s been a target on his back, and if it makes it out of this one it won’t be his last. He looks at Cel, his eyes scan over the mess of a shirt they’re wearing. He stands up and stretches his body. He paces back and forth a bit. He looks at Cel.

“So what are you asking me exactly, Cel,” he says.

They sigh and close in on themselves. They look nervous and tired and Zolf tries to stay neutral but there’s a pang in his stomach that’s caused by the notion.

“I..we need to stop him. All things about us put aside he’s...he’s not a good person. He hurts people needlessly. I don’t...he doesn’t get to do that. I can’t watch him do that any more,” they say.

“And now that he’s what? Trying to hunt both of us you’d think I’d just agree to this weird revenge mission,”

“It’s not revenge, Mister Smith,” Cel says sharply, “It’s...it’s a penance mission,” they say softly. They’re avoiding his face completely now as they walk towards the window looking out at the alleyway below. They rest their forehead against the glass.

“Look, Zolf. It was really quite easy to find you. As I said already he had people on you. If it really is Shoin he’s...not going to stop. I’ve learned the hard way about that many times,” they say. Their hand goes up to their right ear, which has the top half of it cut off. They rub at it instinctively.

Zolf swallows and looks down at his hands and then the floor. He might regret it but he nods, “Okay, Cel. I’ll help. We..we’ll help,” he says.

“Sasha’s going to help with this?” they ask, their face sort of twists in disbelief.

He lets out a gruff, “I’ll have a talk with her later. It’s...stuffs complicated. You came at a bad time,” he says honestly.

Cel gives a small crooked smile and a blush creeps to their cheeks, “Apologies, Mister Smith,” they say.

“Well it’s not your fault really I just...that’s not important right now, uh, how do you suggest we get all the way to Japan?” he says.

“Fastest way is by boat. It’ll take a few weeks, but-”

“Weeks?” he says.

“The options are limited I’m sorry,” they say. He really wishes they’d stop apologizing, but he bites his tongue.

“Look it’s fine I understand just...I’m guessing we need to leave as soon as possible,” he says.

“Actually I, uh, bought two tickets already. It leaves tomorrow morning,” they say.

“Oh,” he says.

“Yes I didn’t-didn’t know you had a companion otherwise I would’ve planned better,” they say.

He waves a hand, “I was gonna suggest she meet us there later anyway…” he says.

“Are you...okay, Mister Smith,” they say. He sees their arm twitch at their side like they want to reach out but don’t.

Zolf laughs, “Okay as I can be, ‘suppose,” he says. There’s a shift in the air between them but neither acts on it.

“Right we best get going then I...do you need clothes and such,” he says.

They look down at themselves and laugh, “I should probably change, uh, yes,” they answer. “I have a hideout not far from here with a few things. I should go collect myself. We can meet at the docks in the morning?” they say. Zolf just nods and they give a short nod back, “Right, uh, thank you Mister Smith I don’t mean to bother you and perhaps I shouldn’t have come here but I just...I need help,” they say.

Their voice is low and sad and Zolf doesn’t really know how to respond so he doesn’t. He lets them walk out the door and he now walks to the window and looks up at the typical dreary London sky. He gives a harsh sigh.

He has a feeling things are about to get interesting. He wishes his brother was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me avoiding any and all talk about sensible modes of transportation from london to japan in the late 1800s thanks so much.
> 
> hope you enjoyed!
> 
> see you next week :D


	4. Embark

**DOVER - 1861**

The ride to Dover is a few hours at best so they head out early in the morning. Zolf didn’t get much sleep. He spent a lot of time awake in bed just staring at the ceiling and focusing on every sound he heard around him. It’s been a while since he’s let himself get lost in his own head but this whole situation triggered it again and he tried his best to fight against it. He looks out the window of the carriage and watches the landscape go by.

Sasha hasn’t said much on the way over and usually that wouldn’t bother Zolf, but it’s rubbing him the wrong way now. He knows he should say something more. He should try and explain things to Sasha but he doesn't even know how to explain them to himself so he sees it as a lost cause. He knows they’ll see each other soon but leaving things like this now feels weird and wrong. He heaves out a sigh as they make it to the port.

She’ll stay in town for the night and catch a boat in two days, it’s enough time for Zolf and Cel to settle in and think out a plan before she arrives in Japan. They both stand awkwardly at the loading dock, suitcases in hand. He puts his down by his feet for a moment and lifts a hand slowly. Sasha stares at it. He brings it back down. “I’ll..see you later. We’ll meet at the hotel yeah?” he says. She just gives an uninterested nod and chews on the inside of her cheek. “Sasha listen I...stay safe. Keep your guard up,” he whispers. He notices now that Cel has made it as well and they’re staying back. They’re out of the way but watching the two.

Sasha gives a look as if to say ‘obviously’ and then nods. He picks back up his luggage and steps to the side and towards the ship. “You be safe too, boss,” she says. He gives a last silent nod before boarding. Sasha begins her trek into town.

Much of everything else is a blur. There’s the standard check-ins and things he’s done probably hundreds of times before at this point. He loses track of Cel quickly through the shuffle but he has a feeling in his gut that they’ll meet again later so he’s not too concerned. He watches the boat take off from the deck, take notes of those aboard waving to those on the dock. He sighs and makes his way to his cabin. It’s perfectly small and a little damp thanks to it’s placement just at the waterline of the ocean. There’s a desk and wooden stool to the side against the wall and a bed just big enough for him against the opposite side. He places his belongings on top of the bed and sighs. There’s no dresser, which isn’t a surprise, he’s lived out of a suitcase plenty of times before.

He settles in and lets the weight shift around him, he closes his eyes and feels the small tilting of the room back and forth that’s caused by the ship navigating the waves. He’ll never admit it openly, but he’s always loved this feeling. The smell of the ocean, the salty air permanent in his mouth and nose. The water’s always been able to calm him and even though it’s still the middle of the day he feels like he could sleep soundly until morning.

He’s half tempted to do that, but a knock at the door disturbs him. His eyes snap open and he’s suddenly reminded of what he’s here for and lets out a low grumble.

He gets up and walks towards the door. He opens it to see Cel standing there. A bright but embarrassed look on their face. They have a bag slung over their back, “Right! All settled in then Mister Smith?” they say. He can tell they want to come in but are refraining.

“Hey Cel, uh yeah-yeah i’m all good to go-”

“Fantastic news and uh, right yes, I uh, you see when I booked this I was kinda in a hurry and I assumed there’d be enough rooms but uh, the crew seems to have double booked a few passengers and I uh, well I really only need a place to put my stuff I’m sure you know that we don’t usually need sleep and I hate…” they continue on and on and he feels a headache coming. He lets out a sigh and holds up the hand not currently still on the door knob.

“We need to share a room then,” he says.

Cel blinks in surprise at his matter-of-fact tone and gives a small smile and a shrug. They put a hand behind their neck, “well-yes Mister Smith, again my apologies,” they offer.

Zolf again wants to tell them to stop apologizing so much, but he again holds his tongue. He steps aside and gestures them in, “no It’s fine. It’s honestly probably better this way. We can keep better track of each other,” he says.  
  
They give a look of confusion briefly before they respond with a brief nod as they lift the bag off their back and place it on the floor. They look around the tiny room. He’s a little amused at the fact that their head almost hits the ceiling. It’s a sight to see.

The turn to look at him and now they’re just staring at each other. Both seem to be lost on what to say or do.

They don’t stand in awkward silence for long. Zolf’s stomach rumbles loud and long and he feels his face flush as he clears his throat and turns back towards his bed. He searches his bag for his journal and a pencil. He turns back to them.

“Right, I should go find myself some food. I’ll...we’ll talk later I guess?” he says. He pauses and clenches his hands, “Unless you want to join me?”

Cel shakes a hand in front of them, “Oh! Oh no that’s...that’s alright I’ll let you get some alone time I, uh, I’m fine. It’s-this is fine?” they say and it is phrased more like a question. Zolf just nods and heads towards the door and he wishes this wasn’t so awkward, or at the very least he wishes he could  _ understand  _ why it’s so awkward.

He spends the rest of the day trying to find the mess and then he sits out on a bench watching the vast ocean form all around him. He writes in his journal and starts to form a tentative plan on what to do once they reach Yokohama Port; just outside of Edo.

It’s nearly nightfall when he returns to a surprising empty room. He’s too tired to really do anything about it. He quickly changes and climbs into bed. His eyes are closed before his head even hits the pillow.

~_~_~

_ It’s the same dream. It’s been a while since he’s had it, but he can feel the anxiety already rising in him when he finds himself falling off the cliff. He doesn’t feel himself hit the water but he feels the hand grab out and catch his wrist. _

_ He’s pulled to shore and now he’s gasping for breath like a fish. He’s not wet, like he was never in the water at all. He looks up to the looming shadow over him. _

_ Feryn. No, not Feryn. _

_ Feryn’s face and body; not his mind and soul. _

_ He can’t talk in these dreams, only plead with his eyes. Feryn’s smile is wicked and his face is bloodied. Sharp teeth on full display. _

_ Then Zolf blinks and it’s the real Feryn. Only for a second. The blood clears and his face is soft. “Hello brother! God you can’t keep doing that. You know you’re not a good swimmer! I won’t always be here to bail you out,” he says in a voice that really feels like Feryn. _

_ Zolf nods and gives an apologetic look, “I’m sorry brother,” he wants to say, “I’ll do better next time.” but of course no words come. _

_ Zolf blinks again and his brother’s face is back to the monstrous. Eyes dark; Mouth stained with red. Hands dripping. _

_ It is the same dream; except this time it’s different. _

_ “Alright, boss?” a voice screams from across the way. Sasha’s voice. She’s running towards them now. Her dark hair circles her pale face and she’s actually smiling for once. _

_ All Zolf can do is watch in horror as Feryn turns and runs the distance to meet up with Sasha. He watches his brother kill her quickly, a silent snap of the neck. Zolf can’t scream and he can barely stand up but he opens his mouth as the wind is knocked out of him. Feyrn’s face grows harsher and more foul. _

_ Zolf’s crossbow appears next to him, he lifts it and points. _

_ “Oh please,” his brother spits, “you wouldn’t kill your brother,” he taunts. _

_ Zolf readies the trigger, finger placed. Line sighted. _

_ He mistakenly blinks; Feryn’s face turns back into his brothers, “Zolf no what are you-” _

_ Before he can remove his finger he pulls the trigger. _

~_~_~

Zolf bolts up in bed with a yell. He’s breathing heavy and he can feel the sweat pool and then drip down his face. He heaves in and out a few times as he tries to untangle his limbs from the bedsheet. Everything’s too hot and his sensitivity is raised.

“What was she doing there,” he says aloud.

He jumps as he hears Cel clear their throat from the corner. He looks up to see them staring at him from the stool, a small candle is lit on the desk and it illuminates their face. They’re holding a journal of some kind. They put it down and turn to him, “Are...are you alright Zolf, I- you were screaming a little in your sleep,” they say sheepishly. 

Zolf sighs and stands up. He doesn’t answer them right away as he’s still trying to shake off the images he just saw. He takes another few deep breaths and taps his foot on the floor. He counts the number of taps he does.

He looks at Cel and tries to smile, “Just...bad dreams is all. I’m fine. I,” he pauses as the words get caught in his throat, “I’m fine,” he says.

Even in the limited light he can tell Cel is examining his face with intensity. They’re biting their cheek like they seem to do so often and tilt their head to the side while squinting their eyes. All this only lasts half a second before they return to normal and give him a nod, “Right...right I know all about those,” they say.

Zolf gives a weak laugh and he can’t tell if it comes out as a relief or as condescension, “Yeah, I'm sure you do,” he says.

And that right there was the mistake. He sees Cel tense and bristle a bit. The grip they had on a pencil in their hand tightens and he immediately feels the guilt in his gut. He sits there and doesn’t apologize, even though he knows he probably should, because he’s just too tired right now.

He looks around and finds something to wipe up his face and Cel still hasn’t said anything else. The air between them is tense and shitty and it puts him in a worse mood that he wants to alleviate but there’s that stubbornness in him that won’t let him.

There’s a part of him that still sees Cel as the enemy, he realizes. There might be a truce between them now, but now he is wondering about what comes next. His trigger finger itches.

He sighs and makes his way back to bed and settles in once more. He turns so he’s front facing the wall and his back is to Cel. They say nothing more to each other.

After that first night, the weeks long journey passes with more awkwardness and tension. Cel makes themself scarce and Zolf doesn’t have the energy to fix it. He’s plagued by the dreams night after night although now there’s different variations.

Sometimes Sasha kills Feryn. Sometimes they both kill him. Sometimes he kills them both. He hasn’t slept much at all, lately.

He noticed some nights there’d be a cup of water by his bed waiting for him when he jumped awake alone in the cabin. He’d always pick it up and look at it, then pour it out on the floor.

Cel finally shows themself again as they make their way down into the Yokohama Port. It’s surrounded with people; travelers from all over here in one place. He’s not one for crowds because it’s easy to lose focus in them and it just makes his job harder. He follows Cel quickly. The whole walk to find their hotel, Cel hasn’t said many words to him, just the occasional glance back to make sure he’s still following as they make their way further into the town.

The roads are busy and filled with carriages carrying both cargo and people. Wooden buildings line the sides around them as strings and strings of lanterns flow between each of the shops.

They stop in front of a modest, mostly nondescript hotel that looks like it’s used for people like them to hide away from the popular parts of the city. They walk in and the air is cooler than he expects. The lobby is big but empty and there’s only one woman working the desk.

Cel walks up and begins speaking what he thinks is perfect Japanese. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he is. Maybe he’s a little impressed as well, but he won’t admit that out loud.

They get to their room. There’s two beds simply made as well as another small desk in the opposite corner. They both stand around awkwardly. Still saying nothing to each other.

-

“So what’s the plan then,” he asks that night. Cel’s been sitting at the desk and looking over the same papers for a few hours now. He can see now as he gets a bit closer that they appear to be blueprints of some kind. Cel jumps and they swing over to look at Zolf in surprise, almost as if they forgot he was even there.

“Right, yes, we-well Mister Smith you see I have the blueprints to Shion’s Insitute and-”

“How?” he asks.

They go quiet and turn away from him again. He sighs and tries again, “Sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that just- tell me what you have.”

Cel nods and looks at him again, “Right so I know how to get in there. He-when we- when I knew him he told me all his back doors. Places to sneak inside. Now it’s been awhile I’ll admit but I think I know a few that still might be there to get inside,” they explain.

“And he’s just going to be there? Doesn’t he have a home?”

Cel snorts, “A home that’s even more heavily guarded than the institute. Trust me, Mister Smith, he’ll be easier to get to here. We’ll just have to do this...during office hours, so to speak,” they say.

He chews it over. This was a tricky request. He only really knows how to hunt in the dark. It’s quieter and easier. Less chance to be spotted.

“So we’d have to go in the daytime,” he asks. He looks Cel over now and notices how much they’re shaking. They catch a glimpse of each other and Cel moves away from him again. They hide their hands in their lap.

“Y-yes. It’s not ideal I know, but I think with us going in and Sasha on lookout it might be doable,” they say.

He looks down at his hands, he’s almost forgotten that Sasha’s supposed to be here soon, life’s been a blur for him lately. His head is foggy and hurting. He sits down on his bed.

He knows Cel’s watching him. After a moment he hears them shuffling around in their bag. They take out a small vial. There’s a dark, shiny red liquid inside. They stand and walk towards Zolf, holding out the vial to him.

“You, well don’t take this the wrong way, but Mister Smith you don’t look good. I-on the ship. Nightmares and all that,” they begin, he still hasn’t taken the vial, “This can help I-It’s my own little thing I whipped up. Should help the mind feel more at ease,” they explain.

The liquid, frankly, looks a little too much like blood to feel comfortable to take it. He then thinks back to his many sleepless nights and just how tired he is and that’s what makes him finally reach out and take it. He gives a nod of thanks and Cel nods in return.

They take a step back, “I’ll be back,” they say and they don’t wait for his response before they head out the door.

They play with the vial between his fingers and watches as the liquid moves around. He opens up the top and smells it. It doesn’t smell like iron, which he guesses is a good thing. It smells sweet like cherries or strawberries. He gulps, closes his eyes, and takes a small sip.

It goes down warm and despite the smell it held it’s mostly flavorless. He sits still for a moment as he feels the liquid make it’s way down. A wave of calm does seem to come over him quickly. The numbing headache he’s had for what’s felt like years lets up slowly and then it’s gone all at once.

He feels his eyelids get heavy as he lays down onto the bed. He doesn’t fight it and he closes his eyes. It’s nice, he thinks, as he drifts off to sleep.

~_~_~

_ This dream is different. Zolf opens his eyes to find himself sitting on a blanket in a grassy field. There’s birds chirping far off into the distance. He looks around. A picnic spread surrounds him. He turns to his side and sees Sasha laying next to him with her eyes closed and a smile on her face. He stares a moment too long as he tries to wrap his head around what’s happening. _

_ “Zolf!” a voice calls out. He turns and see it’s Feryn, the real Feryn, and he’s running towards him with two fishing poles in hand. He holds one out to him, “C’mon. We have to have some main course for this meal, right?” _

_ Zolf looks around, “But there’s no water around here,” he says. He can actually speak now. That’s new too. _

_ Feryn looks at him confused, “What do you mean, it’s right there,” he says. _

_ Zolf looks, the grassy field they were in now becomes a lakeside view. Feryn rushes off again and he follows. _

__ The two brothers stand and fish in silence. Zolf can feel the warmth in his chest and there’s such a strong force of contentment in his bones that he finds himself wanting to cry even in this dream state. They catch their fish. Zolf goes to say something else-  
  
~_~_~ 

But he doesn’t get the chance to because back in the present Cel barges into the hotel room. They quickly gather up the blueprints and their bag and turn to look at Zolf, “We have to go now, Mister Smith,” they say.

“Wha-what,” he says, half-asleep still.

“They-they found us pretty quick. Someone must’ve been tracking us on the ship,” they explain. They continue to babble on about the situation while Zolf tries to gather himself. He doesn’t bother changing, he just quickly shoves his own essentials in his bag and follows Cel out the door.

They begin to walk one way but quickly move to the other. He has a bit of a hard time keeping up with them and they weave through the late night crowds. They lead him down and around alleyways to eventually a small treeline outside of the city and they begin to pick up their pace.

“Cel, Cel please slow down I-I can’t keep up,” he calls out. They turn to him with fear in their eyes that goes away quickly as they process what he said and begin to slow down.

“Yes-yes sorry i just this way.

“Cel where are we-” he begins but there is the snap of a branch nearby that makes both of them alert immediately. Zolf tried to focus on where the sound came from but he couldn’t see anything.

There’s more shuffling coming from all around them. The two of them take a step closer to each other.

Cel gasps, “Zolf you-”

He doesn’t hear the rest of what they say as something hits him on the back of the head and everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :yeets this into the void: please never make me describes things like the "time" and "place" ever again.
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed!
> 
> see ya next week!


	5. Locked Up

**UNKNOWN - 1861**

Zolf wakes up with his head throbbing. He looks around and realizes he’s on a cold, damp concrete floor. It smells like wet moss and even wetter wood. He tries to carefully move his head around but his neck is so stiff it cracks and creaks with every movement. He lets out a strained groan and he tries to bring a hand to rub it out, but it doesn’t get very far.

He’s cuffed to the wall. He pulls harder to see if it’ll budge but it’s no use. He’s stuck here. He moves his legs and they creak just as well, the metal feels tight and off caliber, must’ve been from the rough handling of him while he was unconscious.

He finally notices how dark it is. No light comes except for some lanterns hung by a door opposite the room. He tries to move his head again and it’s a little easier now. There’s the smallest window towards the ceiling of the room that doesn’t show much, but it’s able to tell him it’s nighttime. He lets out a yell. There’s the sound of someone stirring next to him.

“Cel?” he calls out.

He can’t see exactly where they are but he hears bigger sounds of a struggle and then something being spit out. Followed by a coughing fit, “Ye-yes Mister Smith I’m here I-we seem to have been caught,” they say.

Zolf snorts and jangles his chains, “Yeah you could say that. These Shoin’s men?”

Cel gives out a hum, “Yeah I’d say that’s a strong guess. They must’ve been following us from the beginning. Maybe even  _ from _ Dover. I-I shoulda seen it…” they say.

He sighs. A part of him thinks that, yeah, they really should’ve, but he should’ve too. He’s been so up his own head these past few weeks and this mission is already different than what he’s used to. Now here he sits on an uncomfortable floor, locked up with someone he barely knows for who knows why or how long. He slams a fist on the ground and lets out a string of curses when it's a little too hard and his shackles dig into his wrists.

He leans his head back against the wall and realizes how it’s also concrete. It’s cool and rough on his tender skin and he winces. It’s silent as he thinks about what to do next; the metal around his wrist mocks him and makes it clear that there’s nothing he can do except wait and hope that somehow Sasha’s able to find them.

Cel begins coughing again and it takes a while for them to stop. He hears them spit on the ground followed by a frustrated sigh.

“Are you okay, Cel?” he asks. He’s never heard anyone cough like that before.

He hears Cel mumble something in a language he doesn’t know before responding, “I’m fine, thank you, just a little uncomfortable. Uh you should-you should get some more sleep there’s no use of both of us being awake now. Plus not like there’s much else to do at the moment,” they say.

A part of him wants to argue for the hell of it but he does feel his head start to get fuzzy again. His body aches and he feels himself slowly go limp. He’s probably too uncomfortable to properly sleep, but Cel has a point: there’s nothing much they can do now. He hates feeling helpless but it’s all he is right now.

He dozes off eventually and it’s the first night in a while he’s not plagued with the dreams. He sees nothing. It’s just hours of black. He’s not sure he likes that alternative either.

He wakes up and there’s the faintest light coming from the window. It’s humid to all hell and he feels the moisture in the air seep into his lungs as he takes a few deep breaths to adjust. He tries to stretch his body but it’s no use. Every move he attempts to make just makes every ache more.

He gives out a huff and turns to Cel. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the new lowlight but once they do they widen at what they see.

Cel’s strapped to essentially what’s just a board. They’re propped up with their ankles strapped and arms firmly down at their side. They’re locked in tight with an assortment of buckles and locks all the way up to their neck. He now considers himself incredibly lucky.

“Cel,” he calls out. Their eyes are closed and their head is hanging off to the side. They stir a bit at the mention of their name but they don’t open their eyes. He sighs and lets it go. He spends another moment looking them over again and a pit drops in his stomach. He focuses on their face and thinks he can see the faintest amount of dried blood in the corner of their mouth. He guesses he might look much of the same, but then he’s reminded of the coughing from last night and his throat tightens just a little bit more.

He looks away from them and stares straight ahead. He can see the door more clearly now and it’s heavy metal and black. He sits and waits for something to happen.

He learns that doesn’t take any time as he hears footsteps approach the door. It busts open, the heaviness apparent by the way is screeches and scratches on the floor. Cel jerks at the sound and gasps. They look confused and scared for a moment before realization hits, and now he can see that they’re just angry.

Three men enter. Two have the build of heavy hitmen, their shoulders broad and square. In between them walks a normal looking man with a dead set glare on Cel. His mouth is twisted in a vile smile. He looks in Zolf’s direction briefly, but quickly ignores him. He walks over to where Cel stands.

He begins to speak in Japanese and Cel tries to keep their face as neutral as possible, the facade only broken when they speak back. He might not understand what they’re saying, but he can tell by their tone that Cel has no desire to play nice with these people, and he can’t say that he blames them.

They talk for a long time, both spare glances at Zolf from time to time and he can’t help but squirm when they do. The discussion continues but there's a point where neither lets the other speak and a stalemate ensues.

The man laughs bitterly and he leans in a little closer to the wooden bars. He spits directly into Cel’s face and hisses through his teeth like a snake. Cel doesn’t flinch, they just stare straight ahead, avoiding the gaze of everyone, even Zolf. The man seems annoyed by that. He calls for one of the bodyguards to come forward. He takes something from his belt and before Zolf can process what it is he reaches in and stabs Cel somewhere in their side. They let out a surprised scream and try to flitch, but they're bound so tight they can barely move. They gasp in and out and screw their eyes shut. Zolf looks away.

The man turns his attention on Zolf now and walks over to him. He still has that wicked smile on his face. “We have use for you, don’t worry,” he says. He spits at Zolf’s feet. It just misses.

He turns and leaves. The door slams and he hears a lock turn. He looks over at Cel, “Cel,” he says again. No response, “Cel you still with me?” he asks, his voice is a little more frantic than he expected it to be.

There’s a bitter laugh from Cel and they let out a shaky breath, “I’m still here, Mister Smith, don’t really have a choice in the matter,” they say.

“Who was that,” he says.

“The welcoming committee I suppose. Shoin’s right hand. Only met him a couple times before. Seemed like a good enough guy. Time’s change, huh,” they explain.

“What were you two talking about,” Zolf continues on.

They’re silent for a moment longer than he would’ve liked, “He…” they hesitate, “He was just talking about Shoin and about the last time I saw him. It’s...he was out of the country just now but he’s on his way back. Few days give or take, then...we’ll see,” they say.

“See about what?”   


“You sure ask a lot of questions,” they mumble.

“Cel I need to know what is happening, alright. This,” he gestures as much as he can; which isn’t a lot, “In case you haven’t noticed this is a pretty bad place to be so unless you-”

“I’ve noticed Mister Smith,” Cel cuts him off. Their tone bites into him and he goes a little cold.

He closes his eyes to focus and lets out a sigh, “Yes. I’m sorry. I’m just...trying to understand the situation,” he offers.

Cel also sighs, “Yes. Yes I know. I’m sorry,” they reply.

“You say sorry too much,” he mutters. He’s not sure why he just said that.

Cel pauses, “I’m so-” they don’t finish their sentence. He laughs a little.

Neither of them speak for a moment.

He hears Cel twist and turn and grunt as they try and get any sort of movement until they stop abruptly and let out a frustrated yell, pause, and then let out a smaller, more defeated sigh.

Zolf tries to think about what to say. There’s nothing really  _ to _ say, and they both know that, but sitting here in silence for who knows how long isn’t the best idea either so he swallows his pride and braces himself.

“So, how did you end up working with this guy anyway?” he asks.

Cel gives a low hum and a short laugh, “He came to me actually. Said he had an idea to help people. Something that would make him a legend,” they say. They pause and look lost in thought, “I knew from the start he probably wasn’t a great man to be making deals with but he...when you’re alive as long as I’ve been you learn how to shove aspects of people’s personalities down that you don’t want to see. He spun a good story. Got caught in its web, I guess,” they wiggle around again for more effect, “even now more so it seems.”

He chews over what they say, some things hitting a little closer than he’d like. He ignores it for now, “I...how long have you been alive, Cel how…” he can’t bring himself to finish that question.

They give a big laugh now, “My you do ask a lot of questions, Mister Smith,” they say. There’s a hint of teasing in their tone that takes him back to that night they met at the party and he wonders just how they’re able to turn that on while being strapped in like an animal.

Their tone turns serious as they continue to speak, “I was, oh I don’t know, twenty seven or twenty eight when it happened. It’s been so long now I can hardly remember for sure but that...that feels right. I, um, I didn’t really see or feel it happen. I-you know it’s a funny thing I just. I just got back from a trip to a village outside of England. People thought it was so dangerous for me to go but I met and I helped a lot of very kind, very selfless people. I-I think of them often even now. Knowing they’re all-well-not around anymore,” they say.

They pause for a second. Zolf feels his chest tighten.

“I was walking home late one night and I just. I heard a woman screaming. I followed the sound and saw her being mugged by this big, hooded  _ thing. _ It wasn't so much of a person more as a...creature, you know? A monster as some like to say,” they say with a hint of a bitter laugh. “That thing, the...vampire I guess is what we’re called, they turned their attention towards me and in a flash I just felt this awful pain inside me like fire tipped daggers just slicing through me. I woke up in that alleyway. The woman I tried to save was dead on the ground with her blood drained, as they do. Funny thing is I don’t even know if they ever knew they turned me,” they say.

“You didn’t try and find them?” he asks.

They give a sad laugh, “No I-well contrary to what we were doing now I don’t...I’m not one for revenge, Mister Smith. It’s messy and complicated, and right now I’m paying for it. We both are.”

“You said this wasn’t a revenge mission,” he points out.

They smile, “Maybe I wasn’t the most truthful on that front.”

They let the words sit in the air briefly. “Besides I-there wasn’t anything I could go on and I had work to do. Had to figure out how to live in this...form. It’s, they- It took a long time to make peace with it. Not like I could turn to many people about this. No real rulebook or anything,” they say.

He really has no idea what to say. He didn’t know what he expected their story to be but to have it be so...mundane and so lackluster. That it could happen to anyone makes his skin crawl. He grits his teeth and tightens his jaw. He finds himself angry, and he doesn’t know if it’s  _ for _ Cel or  _ at _ them.

“So what’s your story then, Mister Smith. Since we’re sharing and all,” they say after a moment of silent reflection. He notices they just sound tired and far away. Or maybe that’s just him.

He swallows down the dread that’s taken over him and chews over his options. He’s not really sure where to start.

“Anything in particular?” he says.

“Well I think it’s only fair that you tell me how you got into this line of work; considering it is how we met and all,” they say.

He rolls his eyes a bit, “Yeah yeah alright, I, uh-” he starts. He thinks about what to say, “Was kinda just a family thing, actually. My dad he...he never said this is what he was doing. He just left at odd times and for odd lengths of time. My older brother he-” he takes another moment, “he found out one day. Room full of weapons unlocked. My father was mad. Ironically said he didn’t want us to follow him on this. Our skills were needed elsewhere but my dad and my brother they had a...close relationship. Better than...better than what I had with either of them anyway and he just gave in. Taught my brother everything. In turn, my brother brought me into the mix even though I didn’t really want it. I just-it was nice having something to do with him, I guess. Even if it was...all this,” he says. Flashes of Feryn enter his mind and he winces and shakes his head to try to push them away.

“What was his name?” Cel asks, they let out a curse, “I mean, sorry, on the boat you-you, well that first night with the dreams. You kept mumbling a name. Is that…” they trail off.

He nods even though he knows they probably can’t see, “Yeah. Yeah. Feryn was his name. He was good. I-we were good together. Our father died and we took over what he left, our mother never outwardly said it but we could tell she didn’t approve. Can’t really blame her,” he says.

“Was...past tense,” Cel says.

“Yeah. Past tense. He died about a year or two ago now I guess,” he says. He can feel the sheer hesitant curiosity radiating from Cel across the room as they want to ask. He presses on, “He...changed. A job went bad. Thought there was only going to be one there but we got ambushed by another from behind. I saw it but wasn’t able to warn him. He-He was able to kill him but not before it was already too late. I just wasn’t fast enough,” he finishes. His voice is shaky but he’s trying to reign it in even as he feels the tears begin to prickle his eyes.

If only he scouted the area better. Followed the signs more closely. Warned Feryn sooner. He saw the beast but couldn’t get the words out in time.

Zolf can feel Cel’s sympathy as they speak, “That’s not your fault, Mister Smith,” they say.

He can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes him, “I know that, maybe, deep down I know that but, doesn’t stop everything else telling me it was. I was on lookout that night and I had the time to tell him I just...locked up. Life moved in slow motion and all that I just froze. Can’t explain it any other way than that, and then actually having to kill-” he can’t finish the sentence.

He closes his eyes and remembers every detail. The screams coming from Feryn. The way his stake entered his heart. The smell of the head in the fire. He almost pukes but he holds it in. Cel doesn’t push him any further and they’re both silent.

“I...know how that feels,” they say. It’s in such a low voice he’s not sure they meant for him to hear it. He waits to see if they’ll continue, “I had a partner of my own I guess, a bit after I found my bearings with all this. I-his name was Jasper. He was very good and very smart. He followed me to my shop one day and begged for me to take him on as an apprentice. I don’t think he knew what I was. He never asked. It was surreal. He treated me like a normal person. He was just...good.”

Silence again; he hears how shaky their words are, much like his were just moments ago. “One night he...we were working on something to help some patients of mine and it was late. We often lost track of time when in the middle of an experiment, but I miscalculated. I forgot…” they let out a small sob, “I needed to...feed,” they say the words with such vile that Zolf actively flinches.

He sits completely still. He knows where this is going. They press on, “He was just trying to help. In his haste he nicked himself on some glass and I...it was too powerful and I lost it.”

It feels like there’s no air in the room. He can feel his pulse increase as their words glide through the air. He finds himself disgusted over their confession, yet deep down he also feels what he might call pity. He doesn’t dare speak.

“That was what. Fifty years ago now. Maybe even longer,” they press on, “The look on his face when I...When I came to there wasn’t even enough of a body to bury just. Bones and flesh. He wanted to have a family. Become a doctor. I took that away,” they whisper. They hesitate before clearing their throat, “So, Mister Smith, I know the guilt you feel for your brother, but _ that _ was really not your fault,” they finish.

He knows he has no words of reassurance for Cel about what they did. He wants to comfort them, but there’s only more questions from their confession, and the words tumble out before he can stop them, “How do you feed now then?”

Cel doesn’t respond for a long time and each passing minute of silence he wishes he could take it back.

“It’s good to have friends at your local butcher shop and or deadhouse,” they reply in a monotone voice.

“Animal blood and...corpses?” he says.

“It gets the job done more or less. I’ve found ways over the years to make the effects last longer so I don’t need it as often and I just...it’s been my way of living for a long time. After Jas- After the accident I couldn’t, couldn’t let myself become that monster again I just....” they don’t finish their sentence.

Zolf lets the air between them grow thick as he works through his feelings. Though the circumstances are completely different, it led them to the same place. Working alone. Living alone. Just _ being  _ alone. He thinks he can feel it now; this spark understanding between them as they’re in this small damp room together.

But it’s different now. He has Sasha. Cel has...him, for now. He lets out a sigh, the quiet going on for too long. “I’m sorry, Cel, that’s...i’m sorry,” he says. He wishes he could say more but time and time again his words fail him.

“Thank you, Zolf,” they say. There’s vulnerability happening that neither of them know how to deal with it. So maybe they don’t. Not right now anyway.

“So you’ve been alone since then?” he asks.

“Yeah,” they reply.

Silence and stillness once again.

He closes his eyes and takes in a sharp breath, “It almost happened again. With Sasha,” he says. He feels Cel looking at him but they say nothing. He continues, “we were on a hunt in Wales. It was simple enough. We-well she-  _ we _ agreed, we thought maybe it’s time for her to make the killing mark. She’d been training pretty hard. Convinced me enough that she could so I agreed.”

He looks down at his feet and gives one weak pull of his wrist, just in case the shackles magically unlocked in the time they’ve been talking. They hadn’t.

He continues, “turns out she knew this one. Worked with the guy that had her tied up when I found her way back in Scotland. She lost control,” he huffs, “She was messy. Kept just stabbing the thing in the chest. Then, like clockwork, there was another one coming up behind her. Kept yelling her name told her to calm down. She was too lost in it. I’ve seen it before-hell-I’ve  _ been _ there before just...it kept getting closer,” he says.

He tries to gather his thoughts, the nightmares he’s had try to push their way back up, “I just barely got my crossbow ready and primed before she finally listened and moved back. I shot and killed ‘em then I finished the kills myself. She was angry but I didn’t care. I,” he hesitates, “I was hard on her. Told her she did a stupid thing and that she should’ve told me the whole story. I wasn’t kind to her. Was going to try and figure out what to say when we got back to London but then you…”

“Then I showed up and fainted in your bathroom,” they fill in the blank.

Zolf gives a kind laugh, “well, yeah.” Cel joins in on the laugh and it’s a weird space to be in. The odds are against the both of them but, for the first time since waking up, he feels comfortable. There’s a shift in his gut and he wonders if Cel feels it too. Or if they always have.

He thinks a little while longer and then decides to ask a question he’s wanted to ask since seeing them again, but didn’t have the words until now.

“Cel the night we met. The night I was...supposed to kill you. There was a woman and two children that you took to your pharmacy,” he says.

They give a hum of recognition, “Yes. That’s right.”

“What were you doing? With them I mean you…”

“I was helping them. They were travellers and in need of care and no one at the hotel was giving them the time of day. I knew I had what she needed back at my shop, so I told her to bring the kids and come with me,” they explain. He hears them try and take in a deep breath but it’s no use to them, “Mister Smith I...I’ve used this life for good, or at least I’ve tried to. Now I’ve made mistakes and I’ve paid for them, the only difference between me and you is that I’ve had to sit with them longer.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he thinks back on that night and wonders if he knew that all along. He already had watched them for weeks at that point, he’d seen first hand some of the good Cel did, why  _ that _ family  _ that _ night was the thing to keep him from getting his job done though is something he’s still unsure about. Maybe there was such a thing as divine intervention after all. Even in a world like this.

“And when you worked with Shoin. That was you trying to do good in the world,” he pushes. He’s a little bitter and the words feel off once they leave his tongue and he winces at it.

Cel is quiet before they answer, “It was at first.”

He can tell they don’t want to explain further and though that frustrates him he tries to let it go. There’s no use in fighting right now, maybe once they're out of this place, but not now.

“So what’s the plan now,” he asks instead.

“No idea, if you think of a way to get me out of this I’d appreciate it though,” they say.

He snorts, “Noted.”

He notices now how hungry he is and it’s only apparent because of the noise his stomach interjects into the silence of the room. He blushes a bit as he hears Cel chuckle slightly. 

“Don’t miss that,” they say, “I’m...I’m sure they’ll be back soon. If anything to gloat some more. Hopefully they’ll bring food, they need you after all,” they say. He doesn’t know what they mean by that last bit, but it can’t be good. 

He wants to ask what they mean, but he’s not sure he wants the answer just yet so he closes his open mouth. He moves his wrists around and winces as the skin there is starting to become raw and irritated. He’s suddenly tired and so he leans his head back and closes his eyes. Cel’s silent and so he drifts off eventually.

He sees them all now in a dream: Feryn, Sasha, himself,

and Cel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ Lydia Nicholas I understand your stance on bottle episodes now I'm so sorry for doubting you.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! See ya next week!


	6. tensions rising.

**UNKNOWN - 1861**

It’s another day and Zolf still wakes up shackled where he was the night before. He’s not sure how much time has passed. He’s only vaguely aware of what the time of day it is when that same man from earlier comes in and shoves a bowl of lukewarm lentil soup at him that he can barely bring to his mouth so he doesn’t even really try. The hunger doesn’t feel like anything anymore, so he considers it mostly fine.

“You should really eat, Zolf,” Cel says from across the room. They’re voice is weaker than it’s ever been and he tries to not react to that. They’ve been coughing more and more and just genuinely look bad. He’s not sure if the restraints are the cause or an enabler for something already happening but they seem to actually be hurting, a rare occurrence of their kind.

He scoffs at their concern, “It’s not worth eating anyway. I’ve gone longer with less,” he says. Cel pulls a face and he smiles slightly, then he quickly drops it back into seriousness, “what about you…” he starts, “when’s the last time you...ate.”

Cel gives a shallow laugh that gives way to a small coughing fit they try to keep down. “I’m...I’m fine. I have my ways around it,” they say.

“That didn’t answer my question,” he responds.

“Didn’t it though,” they say. Their voice sounds sad and far off and he doesn’t know what to do. These last few...however many days have been a blur of just them talking to each other. Learning things about one another. It comes and goes and admittedly most of the time here has been littered with long silences, but when they talk they talk as friends and Zolf really isn’t sure when that switch was made.

Maybe it was when he found them in his bathroom and dragged them to his bed. Maybe even  _ before _ that and he was just too stubborn of a fool to admit it until now when they both are seemingly waiting out their days.

“Shion’s back in town now, which means there’s a chance we’re getting out of here soon,” Cel speaks up after a moment.

Zolf nods as he tries to process that, “Right and what does that mean for us,” he says.

“Us?” Cel replies, mostly to themselves. They shake their head and look back at him, “what this means is his plan is in motion. Meaning we, I suppose, have less time than I thought,” they say.

“What plan,” he says.  
  
“Though I do suppose this added step was not something he was expecting so that might have given us some time to work with so perhaps in the end this will be-”

“Cel,” he says a little louder to cut them out of their ramble. They startle and look to him, “What. Plan,” he repeats.

They bite the inside of their cheek and seem to be lost in thought as they stare at him. After a time they move their eyes to look towards the ground. They clear their throat, “Mister Smith can I ask you a question.”

Zolf takes a moment and just stares at them, completely unaware of what they’re getting at, he shrugs, “Go for it,” he says.

“What happened to your legs, I-I noticed they’re not the typical ones you see. They’re mechanical. They seem more useful,” they say.

Zolf takes in a breath and tenses a little as he rubs his wrist instinctively along the inside of his shackle, the skin stings but it keeps him grounded in more ways than one.

“Don’t know, actually, If you’ll believe that,” he starts. Cel doesn’t react. Their face stays in a mute and neutral state, but he can see there’s a hint of understanding there. “Was after Feryn turned. I went on kind of a tear. Hunted beast after beast, I,uh, wasn’t the most self-preserving person at the time,” he says.

Cel’s been staring at the ground this whole time and they begin to cough, but they try and stuffle it down. “Just a job went wrong,” he continues, “Found a whole coven of them. Thought I could take them on my own,” he looks down at his legs, “turns out I couldn’t.”

They give a laugh at that and nod, “I guess not,”

“I remember one of them tackled me to the ground. Tried to take me out immediately. I fought ‘em off but then after that it’s...fuzzy,” he pauses, “I...felt a pain in my side. Woke up in a hospital in Amsterdam a few weeks later apparently. In the most layman's terms they explained to me that I just had no legs. They had a test run on very new tech. Everyone was being kinda cagey about it from what I can remember. Don’t know why they chose me for it, maybe because they knew I was alone, had no family to speak of. Wasn’t from the country, easy to get rid of if things went wrong…” he trails off as he gets lost in his own head for a bit. “But here we are,” he says. He attempts to stomp a foot for more effect but it, for all intents and purposes, just falls limp. “I didn’t really question it. Didn’t think I needed to. Wasn’t my priority at the time,” he says.

Cel hasn’t said a single word through all of this and even now doesn’t say anything about his story. Eventually, they nod slowly. They sag their neck down so their chin rests on the chains binding them. They give a soft chuckle, “Well that’s quite fascinating, Mister Smith,” they say.

He smiles and even feels himself blush a little, “yeah...maybe. Just...that was a pretty bad time in my life. Think these might’ve been the one good thing,” he ponders.

He really wasn’t a person those six months or so after Feryn died. He didn’t see anyone, didn’t tell anyone what happened. He just wandered from city to city finding jobs and things to kill. He was messy with it and would often just sit in the blood of his victims for days because he just didn’t care. It’s a time he looks back on now and realizes just how much he almost became the monsters he killed.

He’s better now. Or at least that’s what he tries to tell himself during the long nights he’s stayed up awake since.

Neither of them speak and he can tell Cel wants to ask more questions but doesn’t. He guesses that right now they are tumbling towards a bit of a crossroads about where to go from here. They’re not really enemies, and they probably never were, but they’re not friends yet either.

Cel can’t stop the coughing fit that comes on suddenly and violently. It sounds distorted in a way he’s never heard, it sounds harsher, more guttural than a normal cough.

He bites his lip, “Cel...what is going on,” he asks slowly. They may be spread apart but he can hear the sounds of them wheezing in and out through a constricted chest.

Finally after another long few minutes they stop and give him a weak smile, “I’m fine, Mister Smith. Just...just something I’ve been dealing with recently.”

“How recently,” he pushes.

He thinks back to when he found them in his apartment. How the wounds intentionally healed like they usually would, but it took them longer than expected to wake up. It usually doesn’t take any time for them to spring back awake, but it took Cel almost a full day.

“I’ll ask again, Cel, when’s the last time you ate,” he says.

They don't respond. They don't even really have time to because the familiar sounds of footsteps come from the hallway and Zolf tenses.

It’s the handler as always and his two bodyguards. He stands in the doorway and gives a nod to the both of them. The burly men push forwards towards the cell and effortlessly swing the door open. They head straight for Zolf and one holds him down a little too forcefully while the other unshackles him. His wrists burn as the air of the room hits them for the first time in who knows how long. He’s dragged up to his feet and each of the bodyguards lead him out, holding him by the biceps. He doesn't even get a chance to glance back at Cel before he’s hit and once again in the back of the head and his world goes black.

He wakes up in a bed. It’s soft and warm and he tries to get out from under the blankets as much as he can but he just ends up getting even more tangled inside them. He lets out a huff as he tries to gather himself.

He looks around and he appears to be in a literal guest room. There’s a fresh set of clothes by his bed and the room smells of incense. It’s a far cry from the jail cell but he feels himself even more stressed here.

It feels all wrong as he scans the room over and over looking for any signs of easy escape or an explanation as to why he’s here in the first place. His head is throbbing and it’s now that he notices it's wrapped in a bandage, to seemingly help from when he was hit leaving the cell, however long ago that was.

He is able to untangle himself from the blankets now and stand up and stretch. His back aches and his spine screams as he tries his best to realign it. Spending all the time in the same spot hunched over called for bad bones. He twists and turns as he hears various parts crack from various places. His wrists already feel better after finally being freed from rusty metal.

He stares at the clothes laid out for him and gives them a grunt as he pushes them aside, he’s not interested in playing any games with whoever this Shoin guy is. It’s frustrating to know so little about him when he’s usually the one to stay up hours on end researching his target. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he sits back down on the bed and goes to check on his legs. THey both seem to be fine so he leans back against the wall and closes his eyes to think.

Except he doesn’t have much time to. The door he didn’t even notice was there opens, and in walks the handler he’s seen over and over. He’s carrying a plate of actually warm and nice smelling food. Zolf’s stomach lunges at it but he holds his ground.

“Ah, excellent you’re awake. I do hope my associates didn’t handle you too roughly. You’re our guest now and that would be awful character,” he says. Zolf doesn’t respond. The man sighs, “yes very well. My master is here now and he’s so eager to make your acquaintance soon. For now here is some food and I suggest changing into those more comfortable clothes, of course we had to guess you size but-”

“What I have on now is fine. And I don’t need your food,” Zolf interrupts.

The handler’s face twists in annoyance for a moment before it goes back to cold as he sets the tray of food on the table in the center of the room, “Mister Smith we are not the enemies here. Surely you know that,” he says.

“I don’t think I do,” Zolf replies.

Another twist of annoyance, this time it doesn't go away. Zolf smirks silently. “Very well. We’ll start fresh in the morning. I suggest you rest more, again I emphasize that my master is so eager to meet you,” he says. He turns on a dime and is gone without another word. 

Zolf heads towards the bed. He doesn’t change his clothes or eat the food.

He wakes up to the door opening again and this time the handler’s not there. It’s just the two bodyguards who say nothing as they point to the clothes on the floor.

“No,” Zolf says.

The two grumble and look at each other. They pause a moment and then grab Zolf by his arms again and drag him down the hallway.

He passes by a number of rooms before he reaches the one at the end of the corridor.

It’s a gigantic room that has tons of light seeping in, the most Zolf’s seen in maybe weeks at this point. The walls are a light concrete color and there’s lines and lines of plants that line the walls. There at the center standing behind a large desk is a tall, lanky man. He has black hair that’s slicked back and in a tight bun. His face is clean shaven and his jawline is sharp and intimidating. His chin protrudes out from his lips and he’s giving a cheesy smile that he can easily see through. Zolf prepares himself.

The two bodyguards let go of him as the man doubles down on his sickly sweet smile and gestures for Zolf to sit. He doesn’t follow at first which causes the man to frown and motion for the guards to make him. He’s placed hard into the already hard chair and he tries not to wince at the motion.

The man waves the guards away and they turn and leave the room. The man walks to the corner to a drink cart and grabs a kettle sitting there. “Would you like some tea,” he asks.

Zolf doesn’t answer. The man pours two cups anyway, “you know it’s very rude to not accept gifts while staying in someone’s home,” he says.  
  
“Your home? The one you kidnapped me and locked me up in?” he spits back.

“Now now Mister Smith,” the man says. He’s standing in front of him now and holds a tea cup and saucer in his hands. He brings it up to his face and takes a sip. His eyes are dark with a hidden hate that Zolf can see, he brings the cup down, “All that unpleasantness could’ve been avoided if you just got the job done all those months ago,” he says.

And there was that shoe drop Zolf was waiting for. “So you’re Shoin then,” he mutters.

“Yes and I am pleased to finally meet,” he pauses, “well, as pleased as I can be,” he says. He holds out a hand; Zolf doesn’t take it, “my my you really don’t play well with others,” he says.

“Not really, no,” he quips back.

Shoin sighs and circles back around to his side of the desk. He sinks down into his chair and closes his eyes a moment. Zolf inspects each line on his face. He just looks like the type of man who doesn’t get his own hands dirty, but has a hand in as many pots as possible. He runs the show, that much is blatantly obvious.

“I must admit when I heard our dear...mutual acquaintance was back in town with a companion I wasn’t expecting  _ you _ . I mean, I very much wasn’t expecting that thing to be alive at all, but it seems I didn’t do my full research on you, Mister Smith,” he says.

“I’m good at what I do,” Zolf says.

“Clearly not good enough if you let something like that get away. Or thinking you could hide it from me and show up here in my city to try and what? Take me down?”

Zolf’s getting angrier by the minute. Like he thought earlier he doesn’t have time for Shoin’s games or his arrogance, “Is there a point to this then? Why you took me out of the cell. Tried to get me to be comfortable?” Zolf presses. Shoin looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he laughs a little.

“Yes well you might’ve failed the first time I hired you, but nevertheless you did bring them here again. Whether it be under intent to help or to harm. I’ve got them back now-”

“Back?” Zolf interrupts.

Shoin gives him a surprised look now and then just laughs, “Oh i’m not surprised they didn’t tell you about all our dealings. I don’t know what I really expected. Tell me, what has our little Celiquillithon said our relationship was,” he says.

Zolf shrugs, “They said you worked together for a while, but something happened that made them break off. You’ve certainly gotten under their skin,” he says,  _ ‘just like you are mine,’  _ he thinks.

Shoin laughs, “Right. Well Mister Smith you really don’t know the whole story, but I am afraid I simply cannot tell it right now. You have to go get ready,” he says.

He rings a bell and the bodyguards enter.

“Ready for what?” he asks.

Shoin doesn’t answer him and Zolf’s dragged back to his room and the door locks behind him. He sighs and sulks back down into the bed.

This really isn’t a typical job anymore, if it ever really was. He thinks of Cel in passing and hopes they’re okay and he doesn’t try to think of anything more about it. He knows they’re not, and he doesn’t know what to do about it and that makes him sad and angry and confused.

He lets out a frustrated grunt and hits the pillow. He closes his eyes and twists Feryn’s ring around his finger as he counts to ten to ground himself.

He spends the rest of his waking hours just pacing the room trying to think about where Sasha might be by now and how long it’ll even take her to find out they’re missing. He bites his lips and wishes it to be sooner rather than later.

The next morning comes and he’s taken away forcefully again by the same guards out of the room and down to a different hall. This one leds outside to a big courtyard. He smells the fresh air and it’s refreshing but he’s put on edge when he sees what’s in front of him.

Shoin stands at the center while there’s a small crowd of others in a circle around him. Most of them look as sinister as he does. Tight faces and even tighter lips. Zolf feels the need to spit on the ground in front of them.

“Ah there you are. Just in time,” Shoin says.

Zolf’s pulled closer and forcibly made to kneel in front of him. He looks down, his details even sharper from this angle.

He reveals to Zolf a dagger. The blade is thin and shiny, made of a material different from the usual metals. He offers it to him, a wicked and toothy smile on his face.

“Take two, shall we,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> see you next week?


	7. coming to a head.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW in this chapter for forced drug use and graphic depictions of violence. Read at your own risk!

**SHOIN’S COURTYARD; EDO - 1861**

_ “Take two, shall we,” he says. _

Zolf doesn’t have time to process what that might mean as Shoin shoves the handle of the blade into his hands and brings him back up to his feet. He’s still staring down wickedly at him as he moves aside to show Cel, still strapped up in that contraption, looking at them. There’s a gag back in their mouth and there’s a tint to their eyes that wasn’t there before. Zolf feels like he recognizes it, but he can’t quite place it.

His blood runs cold as he looks around the audience that’s gathered. They all seem to be out for some sort of blood as they sit and wait and watch for the show to commence. “What are you on about,” he tries to play dumb.  
  
Shoin doesn’t look like he’s taken the bait, but he indulges Zolf nonetheless, thus is his nature, “Oh Mister Smith I thought you smarter than this. I mean look! Because I am so gracious of a man I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself,” he says.

Zolf doesn’t move, he can’t will himself too. His legs feel like cement and he meets Cel’s unfamiliar eyes. Shoin scoffs and makes a gesture to the guards.

They effortlessly pick him up and drag him closer. He grips the knife in his hands harshly and it takes all his strength to not take a swipe at the two holding him out of pure spite.

Shoin claps his hands and it echoes through the courtyard. Everything falls still. “Perhaps I should have been more truthful with you in the beginning, Mister Smith. You see, I fear our friend here wasn’t as truthful to you as they might’ve led on,” he begins. Zolf holds his breath. He has no clue where this is going.

“We met about about a decade ago. Oh I was still young then, just trying to make my way in the world. When I passed by this creature in an alleyway. Ripping out the throat of some poor unfortunate soul,” he continues.

Zolf’s eyes go wide as he looks back at the man. Shoin now has a shiteating grin on his face and he raises an eyebrow, “so they didn’t mention that? Well. Not surprising.”

He looks back to Cel who is trying to look anywhere but Zolf. Their eyes are filled with apology and...hunger? He tries to not focus on either. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth,” he says.

Shoin laughs, “You take that thing’s word over mind?”

“As it stands in front of me you’re both bad people. Why should I trust one of you over the other,” Zolf spits back.

That takes Shoin, and a few members in the audience, by surprise. He looks at Zolf with wide eyes for a moment before he brings his face back to a neutral state. He lifts up a hand in defense, “I suppose you’re right. You can’t, but look at them. They’re useless to you know. I still don’t know what they _ did t _ o get you to trust them over  _ me _ in the first place, but clearly you can see who the better side is,” he explains. The audience around him mutters their agreement. He clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth.

“Why work with them, then? What did they do? Before I...Before I kill them,” he hesitates and looks back at them. They give him a sad look, “Tell me why you want them gone.”

Shoin sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. He acts like he’s really thinking it over, but Zolf suspects that’s just a ruse. He’s seen enough of these bastards in his lifetime to know that they’ll never pass up a chance to spill their life story to anyone willing, or even unwilling, to listen.

“Very well, that only seems fair,” he says, “Well after I saw them kill that poor creature and run off I went to go inspect the body, because I am a good person, as I said. Turns out. It was species on species crime, ripped the throat clean out. Marks over the heart. What I’m guessing is standard procedure. I’m sure you know.”

Shion begins to walk in circles around the both of them. Zolf stands guard. He’s trying to process as much as he can right now. He runs a finger over the knife in his hand.

“I know an ally when I see one,” he pauses right behind Cel and takes a moment to cup their cheek and give it a small tap, Cel tries to pull away but they’re bound so tight it’s futile, “or at least I thought I did.” He moves away and begins to circle back. “I found them, it took months of tracking, but I finally did it. Came to them with a proposal. They help me. I help them. You know, the usual workings of a business deal,” he says.

“Help with what,” Zolf asks.

Shoin snorts, “You are so impatient.”

“You want them dead don’t you?” Zolf snaps back. He can hear Cel give out a whimper and he chances a look at them again. He tries to give them a neutral stare but their face is hot and terrified. He holds his breath. The audience around them stirs with energy, “Who are these people anyway? Why are they here?” 

“Oh! Right yes. These are my colleagues. Here to watch the show. It was a bit of an emergency meeting, but I think the theatrics will be worth it,” he says.

“You’re sick,” Zolf says.

“Not as sick as them,” he says as he points in Cel’s direction, “Now where was I? Oh yes. This one helped me track down their kind so I could use them for...research. They provided me with samples while also ridding the world of such vile things. It was a win-win, until-” he stops when Cel starts to scream and thrash to get their attention.

Zolf looks at them. Shoin signals a guard over. The guard walks to Cel and slaps them hard. They shoot daggers at the offender. The constant stream of tears falling down their face continues. They look towards Zolf, their eyes soften, but not by much.

“What did you do to them,” he says.

“Well if you would stop interrupting I’ll tell you,” Shoin says. He sighs and takes a deep breath, “I was researching a drug. It’s not fair that these beasts get such raw strength and power, if we’re they’re food source I’d thought it’d only be fair if we got some sort of benefit from them.”

Zolf’s barely listening now. He’s only staring at Cel as they stare back at him. He realizes now, why their eyes look so different but familiar.

There the same eyes Feryn had the night he changed. The untapped feral energy on display, but still human, not too far gone. He gives them a gentle nod and they seem confused by it, but he sees them relax into their restraints. They look like they’re fighting about ten different battles within themself right now and it’s hard to watch.

“So I do thank you, Mister Smith, for becoming a willing participant,” Shoin says.  
  
That snaps his attention back, “What do you-ah!” he doesn't have time to finish his question before he feels a sharp pain in his neck followed by some short of liquid shooting into him. He falls to his knees and grips the area tight. His vision blurs and there are black spots dancing around him before they turn to red and disappear. 

He feels his arms flex without him doing it and he looks to see the veins moving around without being prompted too, they are raised up off his skin and they give off an unnatural bright blue hue. He shakes his head to try and keep it straight but he can feel the blood pumping in his ears. Cel screams out, it’s muffled by the gag, but he hears it.

He gets to his feet again and glares hard at Shoin who seems unbothered by his expression, “Now. If that’s all done then. I think it’s time to get started,” he walks up to Cel and he takes out another syringe as well as a key. He’s about to unhook them, but before he can a scream rings out from the crowd. It’s cut short by the sound of something cutting through their voice box. 

“What-” Shoin begins.

There’s the sound of people getting up and running, then a few more fall as Zolf hears the eerily familiar sounds of whistling daggers flying through the air. His vision is still fighting him, but he knows this could only mean one thing.

He looks around. The two guards dead on the ground; knives in their throat. Followed by about three of the audience. Everyone else made a dash towards the door and they’re running as far away as possible.

He catches Shoin trying to flee, and that springs him into action. He runs up, his speed faster than it was minutes before, but there’s someone faster that passes him and they lunge and jump onto Shoin’s back, tackling him to the ground.

It’s Cel. He looks back to see the contraption they were strapped into in pieces on the ground. They let out an ungodly yell and he turns his attention back to them.

They’ve flipped Shoin around so they now sit on his chest. The man looks terrified, as he probably should be. Cel holds an arm up behind their head, fingernails long and sharp as they glisten in the sunlight. In an instant, they’re swiping at him. They slash his face, a long bloody mark forms on his cheek. He tries to scream out but Cel brings their other hand and forces it down over his mouth. Zolf sees his head dig further into the ground, his neck now bent unnaturally.

Cel keeps clawing and clawing at any place they can, until they finally reach down and grip his neck. He can see them use all their strength and weight to do it, grip getting tighter and tighter as Shoin squirms under them. His arms thrashing around, hips trying with all their might to buck them off.

Zolf watches.

Shoin grows still. Hands fall to his sides. For good measure, Cel stays there panting. They squeeze just a little bit tighter around his lifeless throat. They spit on his face. They sit there a moment longer and he watches the rise and fall of their back.

He’s about to take a step forward towards them when...

“Zolf!” he hears someone scream out. He turns and sees Sasha. She’s standing there in shock and horror as she gathers up the daggers she placed in throats.

“Sasha?” he says, “What are you-how are you-”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, we need to go, come on,” she says. She comes over and grabs Zolf by the arm but he doesn’t move. He looks over at Cel, who’s attention has turned to him. They look angry, but scared. Apologetic almost. He’s not sure what for.

“Zolf?” Sasha screeches, “Boss we don’t have time-”

“Go on. I’ll find you later, just. I have to do something first,” he says.

“Zo-”

“Sasha I am not asking,” he interrupts.

She’s angry, he knows, because she always is, but she listens. She turns away and runs, he watches which gate she leaves out of and turns back to Cel.

They stand hunched and huffing, eyes focused on him.

His head is still pounding with his pulse like a drum and he tries to focus on something, anything to keep his mind grounded in the situation, but he can smell the air and the blood in it and it’s all too much. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off Cel and he finds that helps a little bit, but not by much.

He closes his eyes for just a moment to try and center himself. He opens them and continues to stare at the beast in front of him.

He’s been here before.

_ “Feryn?”  
_ “Cel?”

Cel lets out a warning growl. Their eyes move quickly back and forth and they look him up and down. The same hue of blue veins are shown on them, but they’re a little more faded.  
_ He takes a step forward and Feryn flinches. _

_ He stops moving.  
_ He puts up a hand, the one not holding the knife.

“Cel it’s okay,”  
_ "I’m here, Feryn,” he says. _

_ Feryn bares his teeth. Canines pointed into the sharpest Zolf’s ever seen.   
_ They puff out their chest, they’re breathing heavy.

“Leave,” Cel says.  
_ “Zolf?” he says. Voice not the same as he knows it. _

_ “It’s me, it’s me. How-How is this happening so fast? When did you-” he questions.  
_ “Not without you, Cel, listen to me,” he says.

He begins to move forward again.  
_ He places another foot forward. _

_ “No. Don’t come any closer,” Feryn says. _   
In the present, Zolf hears that as clear as day. He focuses. Cel steps back and holds out a hand.

“Cel,” he repeats.

They growl again, eyes raging and filled with tears.   


“Mister Smith listen to me,” they cry out.   
_ “Zolf. I-you have to go,” Feryn says. _

_ “No.”  
_ “No,” he says.

“I don’t want to hurt you-”  
_ "Either you leave now or I kill you,” Feryn spits. _

_ “I’m not leaving you, Feryn,” he shouts.  
_ “You won’t hurt me, Cel, look he-he injected me with that thing I-do you know how to fix it,” he says. His words are strained as he continues to feel his muscles shift and grow all around him, like they’re begging to be put to use. He flexes his hands in and out over and over to try and find some relief.

Cel pauses a moment. Thinking. Then they rush him.  
_ Feryn lunges. _

_ He puts his arms up and is able to catch him just before it’s too late. His arms almost immediately buckle under the pressure and he lets out a yell of anguish as he feels them about to break. Feryn snaps at him again, “Go!” he yells. _

He put his arms up and the sound it makes when it hits Cel’s is louder than he expected. Like two boulders slamming into each other. It doesn’t hurt him and he grabs their wrist tight. They grind their teeth and let out an exhausted yell, “This is the only way to get it out of you,” they yell. He lets out a frustrated scream of his own in response.

They separate.   
_ Feryn pulls back, but only just enough to try and go at him at a different angle. _

_ His speeds already improved and Zolf’s almost knocked off his feet but he catches him again before Feryn has a chance to get at him. _   
Cel doubles back and charges at him again. He side steps and takes a powerful step back. Cel’s knocked off their feet. Their panting hard and he doesn’t know if it’s because they’re truly out of breath or just frustrated. He comes up to them. They swipe at his ankle.

He almost doesn’t pull back in time and Cel smiles at that, through their ferocity he feels like he can almost see  _ them _ again. He tries to not let it side track him. There’s another pulse of blood in his ears and he winces at that. He looks down at his wrists. Veins blue and bubbling.

_ Feryn almost overpowers him. When he falls back Zolf almost falls over, but he regains his footing. Not the second time though, Feryn slams him to the ground and his back cracks against the hard stone. The air is knocked out of him. _

_ “Kill me, You have to kill me, Zolf,” he begs.  
_ “Zolf you have to leave me here,” Cel says.

He shakes his head at both of them.

“No, Feryn I can’t I-”

“Zolf?” he hears Cel say.

That snaps him out. He’s huffing and puffing and looking blanky at Cel who’s still on the ground in front of him.

He takes a step back. He wants to run until he can’t. He wants to break through a wall and scream at the top of his lungs until they give out and he can’t breathe anymore. There’s such aggression on his mind and he didn’t ask for this. For any of it. He’s tired and he’s angry and if he’s not careful right now he might grind his teeth to the gums.

“Mister Smith,” a voice calls out. Cel’s standing in front of him now, arms held up in front of them. They’re panting just as hard as he is. Their eyes are still not theirs, but he can see the emotion behind them that he’s learned to see over the years. The one he’s used to decide just how far gone the things he’s hunting are.

He looks around and avoids their gaze. He spots something and in a moment he’s got an idea.

He looks back at Cel, “sorry,” he says. He lunges at Cel and chops at the pressure point in their neck that he knows is there. They collapse. “Well that’s lucky,” he says.

He moves over to the debris of Cel’s broken restraints and takes one of the belts laying on the ground. He ties their hands behind their back. Still under the effects of whatever was giving to him, he’s able to put them over his shoulder and carry them out. They’re a lot lighter than they should be, but he doesn’t have time to think about it. He finds himself feeling equal parts pity and relief. He walks out of the courtyard, where bodies still lie everywhere. He doesn’t look at them.

It takes a moment but he finds Sasha near a bush. He walks up. Sasha bristles at the sight of Cel but she quickly pushes it down.

“Right how are we getting out of here,” he says.

Sasha looks at him but doesn’t speak. Her eyes keep switching back and forth between him and Cel.

“Sasha,” Zolf says.

“Right. Right, boss, it’s uh, there’s tunnels all under this place, he probably-probably made them himself for whatever business he was doing. I-I met someone that helped me find them. That’s our way out, but-”

“Great. Lead the way,” he interrupts. He doesn’t want to be this cruel to her, but he still can’t think or see straight, and Cel’s body just keeps getting heavier. He can feel his arms shifting back to normal, and now they just ache.

“It’ll take hours to get properly out, we shouldn’t...shouldn’t have this extra weight,” she says.  
  
“It’ll be fine. I’m not...I’m not leaving them,” he says.

Sasha wants to argue that, he knows she does, but she holds her tongue. She takes a moment to collect herself and without another word begins trucking forward.

The tunnels underneath Shoin’s estate are cold and damp, but they’re built well. There’s tons of forks that lead off into different paths and he’s not sure how in the hell Sasha navigated this on her own. They sometimes pass doors and cages and there’s a smell of stale iron in the air that makes him wonder just how many people Cel brought to him when they worked together.

He knows there’s more to that story, and he knows Cel probably has the answers to those, but he’s not sure if he’ll ever get them.

Finally, he sees the outside world again. They exit out onto a seaside shore. There’s a small campsite waiting for them and Sasha sits and begins to make a fire. She didn’t bother talking to Zolf the whole way out and he hates it.

Cel’s still out and their skin is cold, even for their standards. He lays them by the fire, hoping to keep them warm a little bit.

“What is it about them,” Sasha mumbles, “Why are we doing this, why are  _ you _ doing this.”

Zolf sighs. Sometime during the hike out of there he felt himself come down and now he’s just exhausted. His veins are no longer hot or sticking out from his skin, but it’s tender in the places that were left. He wants to sleep, but knows he can’t.

“They remind me of someone,” he says, “Someone I couldn’t save before.”

Sasha shifts in her spot, her face shines in the firelight and he knows that she can relate. They’ve been together six months and they still don’t know a lot about each other, but it’s moments like this where he knows they’re probably more alike than either will ever willingly admit.

Sasha sighs and lays down, she pulls a blanket up over herself, “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she mutters. She doesn’t wait for a response as she turns to fall asleep. Zolf sighs.

A few hours pass and he’s still wide awake. He’s kept the fire going and he feels like he must’ve been staring into the flames for a while now.

He hears Cel stir next to him. He turns to them and watches carefully as they collect themself. They sit up and look around. They seem spooked and more alert until they look to see Zolf. He gives the faintest of smiles.

“Mister Smith what...what happened. You were...we, where are we,” they stammer.

He holds up a hand and tries to shush them, “It’s okay, Cel. We...we escaped. We’re waiting for a boat to come in the morning. I think. Think we’re far away from Shoin,” he explains.

Their eyes dart around, “Oh,” they breath out, “This place...we’re, the tunnels-you used the tunnels? Zolf I-” they cut themselves off as some realization hits them. They all but jump to their feet, Zolf follows, “Shoin I-I-I killed,” they look down at their hands, “He’s...you watched me. We…” they say.

He watches as they seem to go through everything that happened in the last nine hours all at once.

He takes a step forward and they take a step back. He holds his ground, “Look it’s going to be okay Cel, I-we can figure something out. We can, we can talk about this in the morning. Just,” he takes a step forward and Cel doesn’t fight it. They look so tired.

He reaches out and grabs their hand. Cel looks down at the contact. It’s cold but he doesn’t mind it.

He brings them back to the fire and they sit. They don’t speak.

Eventually, he must’ve fallen asleep.

When he wakes up, Cel’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter; can't believe this is all ending soon...
> 
> hope you enjoyed!


	8. diverge

**COAST OF EDO - 1861**

_ Mister Smith- _

_ I’m sorry. For a lot of things. Sorry for dragging you into this. Sorry for getting us caught. Sorry for leaving in this manner. I can’t come with you. I can’t pretend everything will turn out okay at this point, because it won’t. We both know that. _

_ Shion didn’t lie. I did help him track down others of my kind. He assured me this is what’s right, and I believed him. I don’t think it’s because I actually believed that, but I wanted to, and that can be even worse. _

_ He used me after that for other purposes. Before long I wasn’t just hunting down vampires, but other people. People who “wronged him” or people he just didn’t like. He used them as lab rats. Test subjects. Before that it was me, so I didn’t really question it at first, but some nights I heard their screams so loud coming from those tunnels. So much death that I caused. I had nowhere to go so eventually I ran away. One night I just couldn’t take it anymore. He was tracking me since, as you know. Suppose that’ll stop now. Maybe. _

_ Another reason for my quick exit is: I’m dying, Mister Smith. _

_ Have been for a while. It started with small things. Speed, as fast as I still am, started to slow. Then, what you saw, my wounds started to heal slower. Wasn’t regaining my strength back as fast. Even when I felt okay enough things still felt off. From what I can gather, it’s a side effect of whatever shit that bastard did to me. Whoever came up with the word immortal might need to tweak the definition.  
  
_

Zolf catches himself laughing at that line. He chokes on it. He realizes now he’s crying a little. Sasha hasn’t said anything about it yet.

_  
So I’m off to live out the rest of my time...somewhere. Maybe. There’s nothing quite like dying to make you realize all the things you want to do. _

_ Maybe we’ll meet again one day. After I've atoned for the life I’ve lived. _

_ Thank you, Zolf. _

_ Yours- _

_ Celiquillithon Sidebottom _

He doesn’t know what to do with this. He sits where he slept and fiddles with the paper in his hand. He hears Sasha move around him as she packs up camp. In the distance he can hear a small row boat making its way to the shore.  
  
Sasha comes up and kicks sand in the fire pit. She looks over at the boat that’s now docked, and she brings her attention to Zolf. She sighs, “We gotta go, boss.”

He’s still playing with the paper. He folds it gently while he moves it from hand to hand.

Sasha snaps her fingers which finally gets Zolf to look at her. Her face is annoyed but her eyes are soft, almost pitiful as they look at him, “I’m sorry about...your friend. I-We can’t wait for them, we don’t have time. The boat’s here and we need to get on it and back to London before anyone comes looking yeah?” she says. It’s in a tone that’s rushed but soft. She leans down and puts a hand on his shoulder.

He closes his eyes, thinks of everything that’s happened one last time. He breathes in then breathes out and now his eyes are open and he’s standing up. He packs up his thing and boards the boat.

He’s greeted by a small man sitting with the two oars beside him. He gives Zolf a weary look. He looks to Sasha and beams. Sasha smiles awkwardly, “Thanks Bi Ming,” she says.

They depart. Zolf nearly topples into the water instantly with the speed Bi Ming moves the tiny boat.

He gathers himself and gives Sasha a look. She stiffles a smile followed by an innocent shrug. It’s a light moment, the first one between the two in a long time, and despite himself that makes him a little less tense.

“So,” he starts, “we’re rowing all the way back to London then?”

Bi Ming mumbles something of a displeasure and Sasha gives a stern look, “No. We’re stowing away on a bigger ship. Bi Ming has some connection. Some  _ good _ connections,” she emphasizes.

Zolf mumbles his half-hearted apology and looks out towards the sea. The salt hits his nose and he breathes it in. He lets the wind hit his face and feels the early morning warmth from the sun on the top of his head. It’s almost to put him to sleep again if he wasn’t worried any sudden movement would capsize everyone. So he just closes his eyes and sits up as straight as he can. He listens to the sound of the waves around him and the cut the oars makes in and out of the water.

Anything to keep his mind off Cel even for a little bit.

It’s a quicker trip than he expects as they dock far off from the port that leads to a big, grand ship. One much fancier than the one he arrived on. Bi Ming and Sasha get out quickly, almost leaving him behind.

He catches up and falls in behind them. He’s about to ask Sasha how she expects them to get on when they stop. Bi Ming goes up to one of the guards and just gives him a nod. They walk past without issue.

Zolf raises his eyebrows, “good connections, huh,” he whispers.

Sasha laughs, “the best,” she says.

They’re led to a very,  _ very  _ small cabin that barely has room for the one hammock that’s hanging in there, let alone three people. He sets his bag down in the corner and looks to the two of them.

“Right,” Bi Ming says, “It’s a long trip. Suppose I don’t have to tell you two that. So..strap in I guess,” he says.

He leaves without a response from either of them. Sasha and Zolf stand awkwardly across from each other. He looks down at his hands and notices there’s blood still on them, notably caked under his fingers. He picks it out. He flexes his hands before he brings them back down to his side.

Hours pass and not much has happened. They leave Japan, and head home.

Whatever that means.

It’s late, he thinks. He’s curled up in the corner with arms crossed over his chest. Sasha fiddling with one of her daggers in the opposite corner. Bi Ming is snoring away in the hammock.

“So are we going to talk about it then,” she says. She looks up and stares at him directly.

Zolf blinks, “I don’t know how much there is to say,” he says.

Sasha scoffs, “Boss come on,” she says. She shifts forward a little and brings her elbows to rest on her knees that sit cross legged. The dagger she holds dangles in front of her, “Why was all of this even worth it. Ce-Cel was a goner. You could’ve…” she trails off and takes in a breath. She starts again, “ _ We _ could’ve gone down with them,” she explains.

Zolf can hear the edge in her voice and there’s a soft pang of guilt that takes hold in his stomach. He bites the inside of his cheek as he repositions himself. “They...there’s someone they remind me of. From awhile ago,” he says. It’s barely above whisper. His hands tighten around his chest.

“Your brother,” she says.

Zolf’s eyes widen, “How did you-”

Sasha scoffs, interrupting him, “Zolf I’m staying in his old room for god's sake. It didn’t take long to figure out,” she says.

He doesn’t have anything to say to that really, so he just stares at the floor and continues to bite down his words. A silent moment passes before he sighs, “Well, yes. I...I couldn’t save him back then and Cel…” he doesn’t know where this sentence is going, “Cel needed help. Thought I could do that for them. Make up for past mistakes and all that, I guess. Plus there’s so many moments they could’ve killed me, but they didn’t. Then being trapped with them I learned...a lot. This world isn’t so black and white, Sasha. It’s never been,” he says.

Sasha takes in his words. She pockets the dagger and now brings her legs up to her chest, her chin rests on her knees, “You don’t have to tell me that,” she says.

Zolf gives a shallow laugh, “I know.”

“I’m sorry. ‘Bout your brother,” she says, “and about Cel,” she adds after a moment.

He looks at her and gives a small smile, “thank you, Sasha,” he says.

There’s more silence. It’s comfortable, like it always was before.

“So how did you even find me,” he asks, “I must’ve been gone for...well I don’t even know how long,” he says.

Sasha shrugs, “You weren’t at the hotel, but all your bags and things were. Didn’t take me long to realize what was happening. Ran into Bi Ming who gave me a surprisingly detailed amount about where to find Shoin’s estate. The rest was just me being good at what I do,” she answers.

Zolf laughs and rolls his eyes. She joins him. When that dies down she moves to sit next to him. She awkwardly leans in and rests her head on his shoulder. Zolf stiffens but relaxes quickly, moving so she has more space, “I’m glad you’re okay, boss,” she says.

Zolf smiles and gives a thankful nod. They both finally head off to sleep.

The journey is another long one, but it’s uneventful. Zolf and Sasha both start to get comfortable around each other again. Which in turn makes him feel just a little lighter. They walk into the door of his apartment, and he tries not to bristle about how empty it feels, even though it’s been only them for so long now.

The place is exactly as they left it, like nothing that happened in these past months. They break off to their own rooms to hopefully finally get some rest in their own beds. He sits on his. He rubs a hand over his sheets as he thinks back to the last time he was here.

Cel used this place to heal. He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. He allows his heart to squeeze only once before he lays down. He falls asleep almost immediately once his head hits the pillow. He thinks of them as he drifts off.

***

_ Feryn’s here. It’s actually the first dream he’s had about his brother in weeks. He’s not disfigured or undead. He looks just like he used to. He smiles at Zolf. _

_ “There you are!” Feryn says, “We’ve been waiting for you!” he beckons Zolf over. _

_ He takes a tentative step forward and that’s when he notices Sasha and Cel are there. They’re dressed in fancy clothes. Cel’s in a dress reminiscent of the night they first met. Sasha’s in a black suit and bow tie. _

_ “Waiting for what,” Zolf hears himself say. _

_ Feryn laughs, “It’s my birthday, you idiot. Did you really forget,” he says. Sasha and Cel laugh along with him. _

_ Zolf’s not sure if he’s capable of blushing in this dreamstate, but he thinks that he is, “Right, right, sorry of course,” he says. _

_ “Well let’s go then!” Feryn says. _

_ It’s now that he notices the landscape changes. The four of them were standing in an open grassy field and he watches as it pulls away to form into their house. Their old childhood home. Zolf feels his breath hitch. He pauses outside the door. _

_ There’s a party raging inside as Feryn comes up and grabs his shoulder. “C’mon, brother, you’re not scared of seeing mom and dad again are you?” he says. _

_ “Maybe a little,” he breaths out. His brother laughs and pulls him inside. _

_ They walk in together, the attention of everyone falls on them immediately as they cheer and welcome them inside. _

_ Feryn is pulled away instantly to be the man of the hour and Zolf watches in amusement. He’s smiling bright. _

_ There’s no real faces he recognizes in this dream as he looks around, but in the kitchen he sees his mother and that lodges something in his throat. _

_ She meets his gaze and she smiles tenderly at him and raises the glass she’s holding. _

_ Zolf doesn’t know what to do. He stands there frozen. A hand grabs his and he looks up to see Cel. They’re smiling down on him. _

_ “Care to dance?” they say. _

_ They don’t wait for his response as they drag him onto the small dancefloor. _

_ The song is fast and they move along to it faster. Cel’s laughing and jumping while Zolf’s smiling wide at them as he tries to keep up. He sees Sasha observing everything from the corner, just as he thought she would. _

_ The night continues and he and Cel dance well into it. The music stops. Feryn stands in the middle of the small house. He lifts his glass. He looks at Zolf like he’s about to say something. _

_ He opens his mouth… _

***

Zolf wakes up. He shoots up and looks around quickly. He’s breathing heavy. There’s a warmth in his chest.

That dream, for all intents and purposes, was far better than the usual ones, but for reasons he can’t quite place, this one almost hurt more. He continues to huff in and out ass he sits in the darkness of his room. He puts his face in his hands. There’s an ache in his chest.

\---

They’ve been back for a few weeks now and have both kept a pretty low profile. He’s heard whispers through contacts of Shoin’s death. It appears more people knew about his business with the beasts more than he originally thought, so no one was surprised at his apparent cause of death. It makes him breathe a little easier. He thinks for maybe the first time in a while, he and Sasha are in the clear.

He hasn’t even thought about trying to pick up a new job since Japan. Since...Cel. He’s realized something. It’s that he’s done. With all of it. All of the killing and the burning and the sneaking and the hunting. It just doesn’t feel right anymore, it probably never really has. Not since before Feryn died and certainly not after. The emptiness in his chest wasn’t going to get filled by doing this.

And Sasha. He can’t lose her. Can’t have her go down this path like he did. He doesn’t want that for her. For anyone.

He comes home to see her pacing in the middle of the apartment. She stops as soon as she sees him and snaps to attention. Zolf approaches her slowly. “Sasha? Are you alright?” he says.

She nods her head about twenty times in a second and lets out a high squeak, “Yes, uh, yes Zolf I’m fine I’m, uh, just well, I’m fine,” she says. She forces a smile and a thumbs up and he’s not buying it for a second.

“Well, if you’re fine, I, uh, there’s something I need to tell you, Sasha,” he says. Now it’s his turn to be the nervous one. Sasha looks at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Oh? Okay…” she trails off.

He moves to the couch and sits down. He gestures her over. She complies. They awkwardly sit there for about five minutes. Zolf grumbles as he lets out a long sigh, “Look, kid, I...Sasha i’m not doing this anymore. The hunting. The killing. I...I’m done so if that’s something you still want to do then-oh, uh, what what is it?” he interrupts himself when he sees Sasha’s face break out into a wide, genuine grin. She begins to laugh. So much so that she’s doubled over under the weight of it all. “Sasha…” he tries again.

She calms down eventually but a smile is still on her face, “I was going to tell you the same thing, boss,” she says.

“You-you what?” he says. There’s a weight instantly lifted from his shoulders as he finds himself smiling now too.

Sasha’s face turns serious as she fiddles with her hands, “I just...this isn’t who I am, deep down, I don’t...the killing. The revenge the hate. It’s-it’s not who I want to be. I want to help people. I  _ like _ helping people. It’s...this wasn’t good. For either of us I think,” she says honestly.

Zolf snorts, “Yeah you’re right…” he trails. He looks at her and smiles, “At least you’re smart enough to figure that out before I did,” he mumbles. Sasha laughs and gently pulls him into a hug. It’s short but it’s sweet.

“One of us has to be the smart one,” she says.

Zolf pokes her side and she yelps. They share a laugh and the air is about ten times lighter now. He looks around his apartment. He knows it’s not home. It’s not where he wants to be, now that he has the sudden and new outlook on life.

“So,” Sasha says, “where are we headed to now?”

“We?” Zolf says.

Sasha’s face panics as a blush rushes to her cheek, “Oh I mean. Unless you-unless you don’t want me to come with you, um, that’s fine honest. I suppose I could go find Bi Ming he said he’d have work for me or I could-”

“No! No Sasha I’d...yeah I wouldn’t mind if you came with me,” he says. She relaxes but doesn’t look him in the eye.

“Right,” she says, “thank you.”

Zolf nods his head.

“Any plans then?” she asks.

He looks at his feet as he smiles. “Yeah. A few,” he says.

Those plans lead him home. To Somerset. Where he sets up an inn on the seaside of town. He and Sasha make good on a last few favors from old acquaintances to get it up and running quickly. There were growing pains, but nothing the two of them couldn’t handle together.

He makes sure that every traveler that passes through is taken care of with a warm bed and even warmer meal. He makes sure they’re safe, and it helps have Sasha as a one woman security team.

He finds himself a new home in the small kitchen. He spends his days standing over various pots and pans with ingredients from all over making sure everything’s perfect.

For the first time in a long time: he is happy.

He keeps that letter from Cel in a drawer by his bed. He reads it over from time to time to help remember it all, whether it be for good or for bad.

He still has that same dream of the four of them at the party. He always wakes up before the speech is given; but he doesn’t mind that much anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnnnnd that's all folks!!!
> 
> I....can't believe it's finished. This was only supposed to be a quick one-off that quickly turned into a lot more lol.
> 
> Thanks to Ally and Sun, my two biggest supports on this. As well as all the others in the Writing Rangers server for dealing with my hypes and crimes and cheeky cliffhangers.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoyed this as I enjoyed writing this (which, I did, I swear I just like to complain)
> 
> My first ever AU AND Multi chapter fic finished. What a feeling.
> 
> <3 <3 <3


	9. converge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~ an epilogue ~

**SOMERSET - 1864**

Zolf’s up early like he always is, making sure the inn’s in working order to start the day. He’s out back fetching a sack of potatoes to bring inside. It’s a cool foggy morning as the low clouds pull in from the ocean. He drops the food off in the kitchen and greets some of his cooks.

He’s let his hair grow out. Mostly because he can’t be bothered to go get it trimmed. He pulls it back in either a bun or a ponytail so it’s out of his way in the kitchen and so he just forgets about it. The white seems to have gotten even whiter and he’s heard all the jokes from Sasha about it. His beard he actually does maintain. It’s longer but trimmed in a way that makes it look sleek and clean. He brushes and braids it every night before bed, a routine that’s helped calm him down on the more difficult days.

He’s now at the front desk and looks through his papers. The door opens but he doesn’t look up right away as he just assumes it’s Sasha. However, the visitor stops in front of him but doesn’t say anything. Zolf freezes. He slowly drops his pen and looks up. The air instantly leaves his lungs.

“ _ Cel, _ ” he says. He hurries around the desk. He stands in front of them. He wants to reach out but he pauses.

Cel smiles and leans down, taking him into a big hug. He’s surprised to feel that they’re real and in front of him. He squeezes them back harder. “You are one tough person to track, Mister Smith,” they say. Their voice is different, scratchier, lower even. They look...mostly the same. Their skin is a bit paler. There’s a few silver streaks in their hair.

He gestures for them to sit and they smile and take it. The air between them is strange. It’s not bad, but maybe it’s the way Zolf’s thought about seeing them again in all different times and scenarios that’s bringing the weird energy about.

He opens and shuts his mouth a few times before he looks away and blushes. Cel laughs. It’s silent between the two as their face grows a little more serious. They look down at their hands as they twist them around nervously, “How...how have you been, uh, Zolf,” they ask.

He relaxes a bit in his chair and looks around the room. This place that’s his. He gives a small smile, “I’m alright. I’m-I’m good. This is...this is all mine. Took an...early retirement. After everything,” he says.

Cel nods at that. They’re both walking on eggshells now. Not sure what else to say. There’s so much Zolf wants to ask, so much he’s wondered about since Japan but now that they’re in front of him again he doesn’t know where to start.

They give a big smile as they look up at him, “That’s great, buddy, this is...this looks incredible. I-oh where’s Sasha is she still…”

As if on cue, the door bursts open and there’s a small child running through the small waiting area, with a flustered Sasha in toe.

“Brock no get back here with that I- oh,” she stops chasing the boy immediately as her eyes fall on Cel. She looks between them and Zolf and then blinks a bit, “Cel?” she says.

Cel gives an awkward smile and raises their hand in a wave, “Hi Sasha, uh, yeah yeah it’s me,” they say.

Sasha can’t respond as Brock runs between the three of them and back out the door. She groans and turns to chase after him. Before she leaves she gives Zolf one last questioning look. He replies with a nod. She leaves.

“She...seems well,” Cel says.

He laughs, “Yeah the, uh, kids around here seemed to take to her quickly. She’s good at running around with them. Getting their energy out. Teaching them how to get in and out of trouble more like,” he mumbles.

They smile. There’s a glint in their eye that Zolf notices. It looks like joy mixed with relief, “That’s great, it’s...it’s great,” they say.

Zolf just smiles and nods.

A few more minutes pass. He closes his eyes briefly and then opens them again. He looks to Cel, “So...what are you doing here, Cel. How...where did you go?” he asks.

Cel bristles and tenses up. They bite their lip and look at the door. “I…” they begin. They let out a deep, shaky sigh, “I went all over. Tried to just...help people wherever I could I, uh, went back to the place I caused the most damage. Jasper’s home. Tried to just...do good. Don’t know how much I helped, but I-” they cut themself off. Their eyes go a little wide, there’s the gentlest of a pink shade on their pale cheeks, “I kept thinking about...you, I mean about Japan. I thought I could pay you a visit. See how you were doing-uh-how both of you were doing,” they explain.

He takes in that response. He thinks back to that letter and how last night was the first time in months that he read it again. Like the universe knew this was going to happen. He nods and smiles at them. They smile back. He feels his hand twitch. He wants to reach out but he refrains.

There’s another question lingering in his mind and he doesn’t know how to bring it up. He chews the inside of his cheek. It’s now or never, he supposes, “Cel, in your letter you said you were-”

They sit up straighter and wave a hand, “oh yes. That…” they say. They bite their lip.

“How are you...then,” he says.

“I’m...still dying, Zolf, but I’m...I feel fine for now. Some days are better than others. I suppose it’s the same as a human would experience. Just seems to be taking a lot slower,” they explain.

His heart tugs at that and he lets out a low sigh, “I’m sorry,” he says.

Cel gives a sad smile, “It’s not your fault,” they say.

“That’s not the point, and it’s not yours either,” he says.

“Oh I don’t know about that,” they say.

He wants to argue but he swallows his words down. He knows, perhaps more than anyone, how they feel.

“Right then...what are your plans now,” he asks.

Cel lets out a slightly bitter, slightly exhausted laugh, “That’s the thing, Mister Smith. I don’t know. For the first time in my very long life I don’t have...anything,” they say.

He sits and thinks. He looks them over. They’re still fiddling with their hands like they have been during this whole conversation. They pick and their fingernails and their feet are crossed at the ankles. He can feel how nervous they are, how uncertain.

He makes a decision. One that feels right.

“You could...stay here,” he says.

They snap their head up and look at him. They begin to shake their head, “Oh, Zolf I couldn’t. I...last time I was with you things got so complicated and you have a good life now, both-both of you do, I can’t swoop in again like that-”

“Cel it’s been three years. No one’s come after us. I don’t think anyone has even come looking. I don’t want you to-” he almost says  _ ‘leave again,’  _ but he stops himself. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, is what I’m saying,” he says.

Cel’s lost in thought. Their face is unreadable and he waits nervously for a response.

Finally, they look at him. Their face breaks out into a big smile. Their eyes look scared but hopeful as they shine with tears. “Alright,” they say.

Zolf smiles back just as big. His chest feels warm. He feels his brother looking down at him, “alright,” he repeats.

The rest of their days together are quiet and blissful. The first year or so, Cel comes and goes, not quite done with the things they feel like they need to do. After a while though, they open a clinic of a sort across from the inn. The two of them help all those they can, Zolf thinks maybe after all this time Cel wasn’t the only one who had some atoning to do.

Sasha grows up even more and becomes a teacher. She complains about it often, but it’s always with a smile on her face. She is happy.

As is he. As is, he hopes, Cel.

Each still have difficult days, and during those Cel’s the one to brush and braid his beard. It’s an intimacy neither of them have ever really had before, but it’s one that works.

It’s another five years before the borrowed time runs out.

He holds their hand when they go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I started writing the same night I wrote Chapter 8 but it felt like such a different beat I couldn't really put it at the end of that chapter. I'm pretty proud of that being the "ending" ending and this being a sweet little epilogue. Sitting on this for 4 days has been the hardest thing i've ever done hbfdjnks /j
> 
> Hope this adds some more closure and that you enjoyed <3 love these two so goddamn much........
> 
> Once again that's for reading and all your lovely support :3

**Author's Note:**

> this AU really hooked itself into my brain and then this popped out. I have it all planned. Getting it out in a timely manner might be another thing but let's go on this ride together shall we!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :3


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